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LIVES 



THE APOSTLES 



JESUS CHRIST 






NEW HAVEN : L. H. YOUNG. 



1 83G 









Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1835, 

By David Francis Bacon, Author, 

in the office of the Clerk of the District Court of the District of Connecticut. 



ZJft 



Wm Storer, Jr. Print 
New-Haven, Ct 



PREFACE 



The fair and just fulfilment of the promise made to the public, in the previous an- 
nouncement of this work, would require that it should contain, simply, ' f a distinct, 
plain, historical narrative of the life of each of the apostles, illustrated by such aids 
as could be drawn from the works of various authors, of former ages, and of other 
countries^ which hitherto, in the inaccessible forms of a dead or foreign tongue, have 
been toofong covered from the eyes of thousands, who might be profited by their more 
open communication ; — from these sources, as well as from the sacred record, to draw 
the materials of the narrative, — to throw occasionally the lights of historical, topo- 
graphical, and scientific, as well as exegetical illustrations on the word of truth, — 
and from all, to learn how we may live, labor, and die, as did these first champions 
of Christ crucified." A hope was also expressed by the author, that the facilities 
of his situation would enable him, by research among the long-hidden treasures of 
large and costly libraries, to bring forth, in direct illustration of this narrative, much 
of those treasures of scriptural knowledge, which, by their size and rarity, are be- 
yond the reach and the means of a vast number of Biblical students, who would de- 
rive great advantage and pleasure from their perusal; and that even clergymen and 
students of theology, might find in this work many things, drawn from these valuable 
materials, that would make this a desirable book for them. Yet far from promising 
the combined results of all the labors of the learned on these subjects, the author then 
distinctly professed his main object to be, the collection and combination of such facts 
and illustrations as would make the work acceptable and interesting to readers of all 
classes,— to popular, as well as to learned readers ; and he accordingly engaged to pre- 
sent all the contents of the book, clear and plain, even to those whose minds have not 
bpen accustomed to deep research in Biblical study. 

With these objects constantly in view, the author has long been steadily and labori- 
ously devoted to the preparation and composition of this book. In presenting this re- 
sult of his labors, he is not conscious of having actually failed to comply with the 
general terms of his published engagement ; yet the critical eyes of many among his 
readers will doubtless light upon parts of the work, which have been materially affect- 
ed in their character by the very peculiar circumstances under which the labor has 
been undertaken and prosecuted ; circumstances so very peculiar, that, in accordance 
with the universal custom of those who have completed such tasks, he is justified in 
referring to some important details of the history of the writing. The first summons 
to the task found him engrossed in pursuits as foreign to the investigations necessary 
for this work, as any department of knowledge that can be conceived ; and though 
the study of critical and exegetical theology had, at a former period, been to him an 
object of regular attention, the invitation to this work seemed so uncongenial to his 
adopted pursuits, that he rejected it decidedly ; nor was it until after repeated and 
urgent solicitations, that he consented to undertake it. But even then, so little aware 
was he of the inexhaustible richness of his noble subject, that he commenced his re- 
searches with oft-expressed doubts, whether it would admit of such ample disquisi- 
tion as was hoped by the original proposer. How just those doubts were, may be 
best learned from the hurried and brief notice which many important points in this 
great theme have necessarily received within such narrow limits. 



'1 PREFACE. 

Begun under these unfavorable auspices, the work was an object of pursuit wilh 
him through a long period of lime; nor did his investigations proceed far, before he 
was fully assured that it was vast, beyond his highest expectations; and from that 
time the difficulty has been, not to meet the expectation of a large book, but to bring 
these immense materials within this limited space. Growing thus in his hands, 
through months and years, his subject soon increased also in its interest to him, till 
in the progress of time and various other contemporaneous occcupations, it rose from 
the character of a task to that of a delightful, a dignilied, and dignifying pursuit; 
and he was soon disposed to look on it noi as a labor, but as a recreation from avoca- 
tions less congenial to his taste. It called him first from the study of a profession, 
sickening and disgusting in many of its particulars ; and was his frequent resource 
for enjoyment in many a season of repose. His attention was often distracted from 
it, by calls to diverse and opposite pursuits ; by turns to the public labors and respon- 
sibilities of an editor and an instructor, — but in the midst of these it was his solace 
and refreshment, till at last it wholly drew him away from everything besides itself, 
and became for months his sole, constant, absorbing and exhausting occupation. 
Too often, indeed, were the pursuits with which it was at first varied and inter- 
changed, the occasion of disturbances and anxieties that did anything but fit him for 
the comfortable pursuit of his noble task ; yet these evils themselves became the 
means of inspiring him with a higher and purer regard for it, because they drove 
him to this as an only consolation. As was most eloquently and beautifully said by 
the evangelical George Home, at the conclusion of a similar task, — " And now, could 
the author flatter himself, that anyone would take half the pleasure in reading the 
work, which he hath taken in writing it, he would not fear the loss of his labor." 
Well would it be, both for the writer and his woik, if he could truly add in the me- 
lodious sentence which Home subjoins, that " the employment detached him from 
the bustle and hurry of life, and the noise of folly;" — that "vanity and vexation flew 
away for a season, — care and disquietude came not nigh his dwelling." 



THE LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. 



The word apostle has been adopted into all the languages 
of Christendom, from the Greek, in which the earliest records of 
the Christian history are given to us. In that language, the cor- 
responding word is derived from a verb which means " send," 
so that the simplest primary meaning of the derivative is " one 
sent ? and in all the uses of the word this meaning is kept in 
view. Of its ordinary meanings, the most frequent was that of 
" a person employed at a distance to execute the commands, or 
exercise the authority, of the supreme power," in which sense it 
was appropriated as the title of an embassador, a messenger, or a 
naval commander ; and it is used to designate all these officers in 
the classic Grecian writers. In reference to its general, and pro- 
bably not to any technical meaning, it was applied by Jesus 
Christ to those of his followers whom he chose as the objects of 
his most careful instruction, and as the inheritors of his power ; 
whom thus indued, he sent into all the world, to preach the gospel 
to every creature. The use of the term in connection with this 
high and holy commission, did not give it such a character of pe- 
culiar sanctity or dignity, as to limit its application among Chris- 
tians of the early ages, to the chosen ministers of Christ's own 
appointment ; but it is applied even in the writings of the New 
Testament, as well as by the Grecian and Latin fathers of the 
churches, to other persons of inferior rank, that might be included 
under its primary meaning. It was also extended, in the peculiar 
sense in which Christ first applied it, from the twelve to other em- 

2 



O LIVES OF ME APOSTLES*, 

inent and successful preachers of the gospel who were contempo- 
rary with them, and to some of their successors. 

[It will be noticed that, throughout this book, the text is, on many pages, broken by 
matters thrown in at the ends of paragraphs, in smaller type. The design is, that 
these notes, thus running through the body of the work, shall contain all such partic- 
ulars as would too much break the thread of the story if made a part of the common 
text, and yet are of the highest importance as illustrations, explanations, and proofs 
of passages in the history. In many places, there will be need of references to his- 
tory, antiquities, topography, and various collateral helps, to make the story under- 
stood. All these things are here given in minute type, proportioned to the minuteness 
of the investigations therein followed. Being separated in this way, they need be 
no hindrance to those who do not wish to learn the reasons and proofs'of things, since 
all such can pass them by at once, and keep the thread of the narrative, in the larger 
type, unbroken. 

This first note being a mere exegesis of a single word, is the least attractive of alV 
to a common reader ; and some, perhaps, will object to it as needlessly protracted 
into minute investigations of points not directly important to the narrative; and the 
writer may have been led beyond the necessity of the ease, by the circumstance of his 
previous occupations having drawn his attention particularly to close etymological 
and lexicographical research in the Greek language ; but he is consoled by the belief 
that there will be some among his readers who can appreciate and enjoy these mi- 
nutiae.] 

Apostle. — The most distant theme, to which this word can be traced in Greek, is 
the verb Zr£>Au>, stello, which enters into the composition of AttootcWu), apostello, from 
which apostle is directly derived. 

As to the primary meaning of XreXAw, there appears to be some difference of opin- 
ion among lexicographers. All the common lexicons give to the meaning "send" 
the first place, as the original sense from which all the others are formed, by different 
applications of the term. But a little examination into the history of the word, in 
its uses by the earlier Greeks, seems to give reason for a different arrangement of the 
meanings. 

In searching for the original force of a Greek word, the first reference must, of 
course, be to the father of Grecian song and story. In Homer, this word, creXXw, is 
found in such a variety of connections, as to give the most desirable opportunities 
for reaching its primary meaning. Yet in none of these passages does it stand in 
such a relation to other words, as to require the meaning of "send." Only a single 
passage in Homer has ever been supposed to justify the translation of the word in 
this sense, and even that is translated with equal force and justice, and far more in 
analogy with the usages of Homer, by the meaning of " equip," or "prepare" which 
is the idea expressed by it in all other passages where it is used by that author. 
(See Damm, sub voc.) This is the meaning which the learned Valckenaer gives 
as the true primary signification of this word, from which, in the revolutions of 
later usage, the secondary meanings have been derived. In this opinion I have 
been led to acquiesce, by the historical investigation of the earlier uses of the term, 
and by the consideration of the natural transition from the primary meaning of "fix" 
"equip" or "fit out" to that of "send" and other secondary meanings, all which 
occur only in the later authors. Pindar limits it like Homer. Herodotus never 
uses the word in the sense of "send" but confines it to the meaning of "equip" 
"furnish" "clothe." iEschylus gives it the meaning of "go" but not of "send." 
Sophocles and Euripides also exclude this application of the term. 

This brief allusion to these early authorities will be sufficient, without a prolonged 
investigation, to show that the meaning of "send" was not, historically, the first sig- 
nification. But a still more rational ground for this opinion is found in the natural 
order of transition in sense, which would be followed in the later applications of the 
word. It is perfectly easy to see how, from this primary meaning of 11 fee" or " equip" 
when applied to a person, in reference to an expedition or any distant object, would 
insensibly originate the meaning of " send;" since, in most cases, to equip or fix out an 
expedition or a messenger, is to commission and send one. In this way, all the 
secondary meanings flow naturally from this common theme, but if the order should 
be inverted in respect to any one of them, the beautiful harmony of derivation would 
be lost at once. There is no other of the meanings of ortWw whieh can be thus taken 
as th» natural source of all the rest, and shown to originate them in its various sec- 



LIVES OF THE APOSTLES-. 7 

(OfajLary applications. The meanings of "array," "dress," "adorn," "take in," &c, 
o,re all deducible from the original idea conveyed by orsXAw, and are, like " send," 
equally incapable of taking the rank of the primary meaning. 

In tracing the minute and distant etymology of this word, it is worth noticing that 
the first element in arcWw is the sound st, which is at once recognized by oriental 
scholars as identical with the Sanscrit and Persian root st } bearing in those and in 
many combinations in the various languages of their stock, the idea of ' " fixity." This 
idea is prominent in the primary meaning of orsXXw given by Passow, who, in his 
Greek lexicon, (almost the only classical one that, properly classifies and deduces the 
meanings of words,) gives the German word stellen as the original ground-meaning 
of the term before us. This is best expressed in English by " fix," in all its vagueness 
of meaning, from which, in the progress of use, are deduced the various secondary 
senses in which gt£\\<*> is used, which here ibllow in order : 

1. Equip, Fit out, Arrange, Prepare. In this sense it is applied to armaments, 
both to hosts and to individuals, and thus in reference to warlike preparations ex- 
presses nearly the idea of "Arm." This is, it seems to me, the meaning of the word 
in the verse of Homer already alluded to. The passage is in the Iliad xii. 325, where 
Sarpedon is addressing Glaucus, and says, " If we could hope, my friend, after escap- 
ing this contest, to shun forever old age and death, I would neither myself fight 
among the foremost, nor prepare you for the glorious strife." (Or as Heyne more 
freely renders it, hortarer, " urge," or " incite.") The inappropriateness of the mean- 
ing "send," given in this place by Clark, (mitterem) and one of the scholiasts, (Tre/xjrot/id) 
consists in the fact, that the hero speaking was himself to accompany or rather lead 
his friend into the deadly struggle, and of course could not be properly said to send 
him, if he went with him or before him. It was the partial consideration of this cir- 
cumstance, no doubt, which led the same scholiast to offer as an additional probable 
meaning, that of "prepare, 7 ' "make ready," QrtapaffKtva^oifM,) as though he had some 
misgiving about the propriety of his first translation. For a full account of these 
renderings, see Heyne in loc. and Stephens's Thes. sub voc. In the latter also, under 
the second paragraph of Sr^XXw, are given numerous other passages illustrating this 
usage, in passive and middle as well as active forms, both from Homer and later 
writers. In Passow's Griechische Worterbuch, other useful references are given sub 
voc; and in Damm is found the best account of its uses in Homer. 

2. In the applications of the word in this first meaning, the idea of equipment or 
preparation was always immediately followed by that of future action, for the very 
notion of equipment or preparation implies some departure or undertaking imme- 
diately subsequent. In the transitive sense, when the subject of the verb is the in- 
strument of preparing another person for the distant purpose, there immediately 
arises the signification of" send" constituting the second branch of definition, which 
has been so unfortunately mistaken for the root, by all the common lexicographers. 
In the reflexive sense, when the subject prepares himself for the expected action, in 
the same manner originates, at once, the meaning "go," which is found, therefore, 
the prominent secondary sense of the middle voice, and. also of the active, when, as is 
frequent in Greek verbs, that voice assumes a reflexive force. The origin of these 
two definitions, apparently so incongruous with the rest and with each other, is thus 
made consistent and clear ; and the identity of origin here shown, justifies the arrange- 
ment of them both together in this manner. 

The tracing out of the other meanings of this word from the ground-meaning, 
would be abundantly interesting to many ; but all that can be here allowed, is the 
discussion of precedence between the first two, here given. Those who desire to 
pursue the research, have most able guides in the great German lexicographers, 
whose materials have been useful in illustrating what is here given. For abundant 
references illustrating these various meanings, see H. Stephens's Thesaurus, Scapu- 
la's, Damm's, Schneider's, Passow's, Donnegan's, Porti's, and Jones's Lexicons. 

The simple verb oreXX©, thus superabundantly illustrated, among its numerous 
combinations with other words, is compounded with the preposition afro, (apo,) making 
the verb AjtoctcXXw, (apostello.) This preposition having the force of "away," 
■" from," when united with a verb, generally adds to it the idea of motion off from some 
object. Thus aswreXXw acquires by this addition the sense of "away," which how- 
ever only gives precision and force to the meaning "send," which belongs to the 
simple verb. By prefixing this preposition, the verb is always confined to the defi- 
nition "send," and the compound never bears any other of the definitions of e-rfXXw 
but this. The simple verb without the prefix expresses the idea of "send" only in 



b LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. 

certain peculiar relations with other words, while the compound, limited and aided 
by the preposition, always implies action directed "away from" the agent to a dis- 
tance, and thus conveys the primary idea of "send," so invariably, that it is used in 
no passage in which this word will not express its meaning. From this compound 
verb thus defined, is directly formed the substantive which is the true object and end 
of this protracted research. 

ArroffroXo?, (Apostolos) is derived from the preceding verb by changing the penult 
vowel E into O, and displacing the termination of the verb by that of the noun. The 
change of the penult vowel is described in the grammars as caused by its being de- 
rived from the perfect middle, which has this peculiarity in its penult. The noun 
preserves in all its uses the uniform sense of the verb from which it is derived, and 
in ever}" instance maintains the primary idea of "a person or thing sent." It was 
often used adjectively with a termination varying according to the gender of the sub- 
stantive to which it referred. In this way it seems to have been used by Herodotus, 
who gives it the termination corresponding to the neuter, when the substantive to 
which it refers is in that gender. (See Porti Dictionarium Ionicum Grseco Latinum.) 
Herodotus is the earliest author in whom I am able to discover the word, for Homer 
never uses the word at all, nor does any author, as far as I know, previous to the 
father of history. Though always preserving the primary idea of the word, he va- 
ries its meaning considerably, according as he applies it to a person or a thing. With 
"the neuter termination anoaroXov, (apostoloN,) referring to the substantive ttXoiov, 
(ploion,) it means a " vessel sent" from place to place. In Plato, (Epist. 7,) it occurs 
in this connection with the substantive ■kXolov expressed, which in Herodotus is only 
implied. For an exposition of this use of the term, see H. Stephens's Thesaurus, 
(sub voc. aTroorroAoj.) "With the masculine termination, Herodotus, applying it to per- 
sons, uses it first in the sense of " messenger," " embassador," or " herald," in Clio, 21, 
where relating that Halyattes, king of Lydia, sent a herald (k^p^,) to treat for a 
truce with the Milesians, he mentions his arrival under this synonymous term. " So 
the messenger (cikootoXos, apostolos,) came to Miletus." ( r O nzv Stj <nro(TTo\os ss rnv M<A»7- 
tov vv.) In Terpsichore, 38, he uses the same term. "Aristagoras the Milesian 
went to Lacedsemon by ship, as embassoAor (or delegate) from the assembly of Ionic 
tyrants," (A;ro<rroAoj cyivtro.) These two passages are the earliest Greek in which I 
can find this word, and it is worth noticing here, that the word in the masculine form 
was distinctly applied to persons, in the sense given as the primary one in the text 
of this. book. But, still maintaining in its uses the general idea of "sent," it was 
not confined, in the ever-changing usage of the flexible Greeks, to individual persons 
alone. In reference to its expression of the idea of "distant destination," it was ap- 
plied by later writers to naval expeditions, and in the speeches of Demosthenes, who 
frequently uses the word, it is entirely confined to the meaning of a " warlike expe- 
dition, fitted out and sent by sea to a distant contest." (References to numerous- 
passages in Demosthenes, where this term is used, may be found in Stephens's The- 
saurus, on the word.) From the fleet itself, the term was finally transferred to the 
naval commander sent out with it, so that in this connection it became equivalent to 
the modern title of "Admiral." 

Besides these political and military uses of the word, it also acquired in the later 
Greek a technical meaning as a legal term, and in the law-writers of the Byzantine 
school, it is equivalent to " letters of appeal " from the decision of a lower tribunal to a 
higher one. But this, as well as the two previous meanings, must be considered as 
mere technical and temporary usages, while the original sense of "messenger," 
" herald," " embassador," remained in constant force long after the word had received 
the peculiar application which is the great object of this long investigation. Yet 
various as are these meanings, it should be noticed that all those which refer to per- 
sons, have this one common idea, that of "one sent to a distance to execute the 
commands of a higher power." This sense is likewise preserved in that sacred 
meaning, which the previous inquiry has now somewhat prepared the reader as well 
as the writer to appreciate in its true force. 

The earliest passage in the sacred records of Christianity, in which the word 
apostle is used, is the second verse of the tenth chapter of Matthew, where the dis- 
tinct nomination of the twelve chief disciples is first mentioned. They are here 
called apostles, and as the term is used in connection with their being sent out on 
their first mission, it seems plain that the application of the name had a direct refer- 
ence to this primary signification. The word, indeed, which Jesus uses in the six- 
teenth verse, (when he says ' Behold ! I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves,') 



LIVES OP THE APOSTLES, [) 

is aflwreAAw, (apostello), and when in the fifth verse, Matthew, after enumerating and 
naming the apostles, says " These twelve Jesus sent forth" the past tense of the same 
verb is used, (arrforaAfv, apesteilen.) Mark also, in his third chapter, relating the 
appointment and commissioning of the twelve, uses this verb, in verse 14. " And he 
appointed twelve, that they might be with him, and that he might send them forth to 
preach," {a-KoartW^ apostelle.) Luke merely mentions the name apostle, in giving 
the list of the twelve, in chapter 6, verse 13; and in chapter 9, verse 7, gives the verb 
in the same way as Matthew. The term certainly is of rare occurrence in all the 
gospels ; those persons who are thus designated being commonly mentioned under 
the general title of disciple or learner, {ixadrims,) and when it is necessary to separate 
them from the rest of Christ's followers, they are designated from their number "the 
twelve." John never uses it in this sense, nor does Mark in giving the list, though 
he does in vi. 30, and the only occasion on which it is applied to the twelve by Mat- 
thew, is that of their being sent forth on their brief experimental mission through the 
land of Israel, to announce the approach of the Messiah's reign. The simple reason, 
for this remarkable exclusion of the term from common use in the gospel story, is 
that only on that one occasion just mentioned, did they assume the character of apos- 
tles, or persons sent forth by a superior. This circumstance shows a beautiful justness 
and accuracy in the use of words by the gospel writers, who in this matter, at least, 
seem to have fully apprehended the true etymological force of the noble language in 
which they wrote. The twelve, during the whole life of Jesus, were never sent forth 
to proclaim their Lord's coming, except once; but until the Ascension, they were 
simple learners, or disciples, {ixaOr/rai, mathetai,) and not apostles or messengers, who 
had so completely learned the will of God as to be qualified to teach it to others. 
But immediately after the final departure of Jesus, the sacred narrative gives them 
the title of apostles with much uniformity, because they had now, by their ascending 
Lord, been solemnly commissioned in his last words, and sent forth as messengers 
and embassadors to "all nations." A common reader of the New Testament must 
notice that, in the Acts of the Apostles, this title is the most usual one given to the 
chosen twelve, though even there, an occasional use is made of the collective term 
taken from the idea of their number. It deserves notice, however, that Luke, the 
author of the Acts, even in his gospel, uses this name more frequently than any other 
of the evangelists ; and his individual preference for this word may, perhaps, have 
had some influence in producing its very frequent use in the second part of his nar- 
rative, though the whole number of times when it is used in his gospel is only six, 
whereas in Acts it occurs twenty-seven times. So that on the whole it would seem 
clear, that the change from the common use of the term " disciple," in the gospels, 
to that of "apostle," in the history of their acts after the ascension, was made in refer- 
ence to the corresponding change in the character and duties of the persons thus 
named. 

The lexicography of the word anoaroXos, (apostolos,) I arra,nge as follows, after a 
full comparison and investigation of all the standard authorities. 

The primary idea or ground-meaning which runs through all the secondary sig- 
nifications, and is distinctly recognizable in all their various applications, is as has 
already been remarked, that of " one sent forth," referring either to persons or things, 
but more commonly to persons. These secondary meanings being all directly de- 
rived from the ground-stock, and not by a repetition of transformations in sense, it is 
hard to settle any order of precedence among them ; which might be easily done if a 
distinct gradation could be traced, as in the definition of most w T ords. I have chosen 
to follow what seems to be the historical order of application, as already traced, al- 
though several very high authorities give a different arrangement. 

I. A messenger, herald, embassador; a person sent with a message. This is the 
use made of the term by Herodotus, above quoted, and being thus historically 
the earliest, as well as flowing naturally from the ground-meaning, may therefore 
justly hold the first place. And when other variable meanings had been lost in the 
revolutions of usage, this retained its place, being applied to many different persons 
whose offices included the idea of being sent abroad by commission from a higher 
power. Under this meaning is most justly included that peculiar Christian use of the 
word, which is the object of this investigation, and under this head therefore I rank 
all the New Testament usages of anoaroXos. 1. It is used in the simple sense here 
given, with the first primary idea conveyed by the term. There is no Greek sentence 
extant which refers so forcibly to the ground-meaning as that in John's gospel, xiii. 
lb; where the words m the common English translation are "he that is sent," though 



10 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. 

in the original Greek the Word is u-o<tto\os, which might be more justly translated 
" messenger," in order to make a difference in English corresponding to that in Greek, 
between arroorcAoj and nefxipus, (pcmpsas.) without giving the same word "send" for 
two different words in Greek. Still the common translation gives the true meaning 
of each word, though not so simply and gracefully just, as it might be if the difference 
of terms in the two members of the sentence was kept up in English. In this same 
general sense of " messenger," or ;; any person sent," it is used in 2 Corinth, viii. 23, 
(in common Eng. translation '-messenger,") and in Philip, ii. 25, (common translation 
" messenger.") 2. It is used to designate persons directly sent by God to men, and in 
this sense is frequently given to us in connection with " prophet" as in Luke xi. 4 ( J; 
Ephes. iii. 5; Rev. xviii. 20. In this sense also it is applied to Jesus, in Heb. iii. 1, 
3. It is used as the title of several classes of persons, employed by Jesus in propagating 
the gospel. These are [1] the twelve chief disciples, commonly distinguished above 
all others but one, by this name. Matt. x. 2; Mark vi. 30; Luke vi. 13; ix. 10; xxii. 
14; Acts i. 2G; and in other places loo numerous to be mentioned here, but to which 
a good concordance will direct any curious investigator. [2] Paul, as the great 
messenger of truth to the Gentiles, so called in many passages ; and with him Barnabas 
is also distinctly included under this term, in Acts xiv. 4, 14; and xv. 33. (Griesbach 
however, has changed this last passage from the common reading. See his editions.) 
[3] Other persons, not of great eminence or fame ; as Andronicus and Junius, Paul's 
assistants, Rom. xvi. 7; the companions of Titus in collecting the contributions of the 
churches, 2 Cor. viii. 23 ; and perhaps also Epaphroditus, Philip, ii. 15. This seems 
to be as clear an arrangement of the New Testament lexicography of the term as 
can be given, on a comparison of high authorities. Those who can refer to Wahl, 
Bretschneider, Parkhurst and Schleusner, will find that I have not servilely followed 
either, but have adopted some things from all. 

The extensions and variations of the New Testament usage of the word, among 
the Grecian and Latin Christian Fathers, were, 1, the application of it to the seventy 
disciples whose mission is narrated by Luke, x. 29. These are repeatedly called 
apostles. 2. The companions of Paul and others are frequently honored by this title. 
Timothy and Mark are called apostles, and many later ministers also, as may be 
seen by the authorities at the end of Cave's Introduction to his Lives of the Apostles. 
In application to persons, it is used by Athenian writers as a name for the com- 
mander of a naval expedition, (See Demosth. as quoted by Stephens.) but this seems 
to have come by transferring to the man, the name of the expedition which he com- 
manded, so that this cannot be derived from the definition which is here placed 
first. This term in the later Greek is also applied to the "bride-man" or bride- 
groom's friend, who on wedding festivals was sent to conduct the bride from her 
father's house to her husband's. {Pkavorinus quoted by Witsius in Vita Pauli.) This 
however is a very unusual sense, which I can find on no other authority than that 
here given. None of the lexicons contain it. 

II. The definition which occupies the first place in most of the arrangements of this 
word in the common Greek lexicons, is that of a ''naval expedition," "cvpparat&s 
classium" "fleet." There appears, however, to be no good reason for this order, but 
there is historical argument, at least, as well as analogy, for putting those meanings 
which refer to persons, before those which refer to things. This meaning, as far 
as I can learn, seems to be confined to Demosthenes, and there is nothing to make us 
suppose that it is anterior in use to the simple permanent sense which is here given 
first. Hesvchius gives us only the meaning of "the commander of a fleet," which 
may indeed be derivable from this sense rather than the preceding personal uses, 
though it seems to me not impossible that the name was transferred from the com- 
mander to the object of his command, thus making the personal meanings prior lo 
those of inanimate things. The adjective use of the word in Herodotus and Plato, 
however, makes it certain that in that way it was early applied to a single vessel* 
and the transition to its substantive use for a whole fleet is natural enough. 

The legal use of it for ''letters of appeal," (liieruc dimissoriae.) of course comes 
under the head of the later usages in application to things, and is the last modification 
of meaning which the word underwent before the extinction of the ancient Greek 
language. 

The corresponding Hebrew word, and that which was, no doubt, used by Christ 
m his discourse to his apostles, was rnStf pr rvhv (skeluk, or shciih.) whose pri- 
mary meaning, like that of the Greek wort!, is "(me sent," and is derived from the 



LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. 11 

passive Kal, participle of the verb rhvf meaning " he sent." This word is often 
Used in the Old Testament, and is usually translated in the Alexandrian Greek 
version, by the word airooroXos, A remarkable instance occurs in 1 Kings xiv. 6 ; 
where the prophet Ahijah, speaking to the wife of Jeroboam, says, rnbty "3JX *j ,l ?X 
"to thee am I sent;" the Alexandrian version gives the noun cnroaToXos, so as to 
make it literally "to thee I am an apostle" or "messenger," or truly, in the just and 
primary sense of this Greek word, "to thee 1 am sent." This passage is a valuable 
illustration of the use of the same Greek word in John xiii. 16; as above quoted. 

The Hebrews had another word also, which they used in the sense of an apostle or 
messenger. This was "jxSd (w«Z ak,) derived from a verb which means " send," 
so that the primary meaning of this also is " one sent." It was commonly appro- 
priated to angels, but was sometimes a title of prophets and priests. (Haggai i. 19; 
Malachi ii. 7.) It was on the whole the more dignified term of the two, as the 
former was never applied to angels, but was restricted to men. The two terms are 
very fairly represented by the two Greek words airoaro^os and ayys\os, in English 
"apostle" and "angel," the latter, like its corresponding Hebrew term, being some- 
times applied to the human servants of God, as in John's address to the seven 
churches. 

The scope of the term, as used in the title of this hook, is limit- 
ed to the twelve chosen disciples of Jesus Christ, and those few of 
their most eminent associates, who are designated by the same 
word in the writings of the early Christians. These persons 
fall under two natural divisions, which will be followed in the ar- 
rangement of their lives in this work. These are, first, the 
twelve, or Peter and his companions ; and second, Paul and 
his companions, including also some to whom the name apostle 
is not given by the New Testament writers, but who were so in- 
timate with this great preacher of Christ, and so eminent by their 
own labors, that they may be very properly ranked with him, 
in the history of the first preachers of Christianity. 

The persons whose lives are given in this book are, 

I. The Galilean apostles, namely, 

Simon Peter, and Andrew his brother, 
James, and John, the sons of Zebedee, 
Philip, and Bartholomew, 
Matthew, and Thomas, 

James, the son of Alpheus, and Simon Zelotes, 
Jude, the brother of James, and Judas Iscariot, in whose 
place was afterwards chosen by the apostles, Matthias. 

II. The Hellenist apostles, namely, Paul and Barnabas, with 
whom are included their companions, Mark and Luke, the evan- 
gelists. 

These two classes of Apostles are distinguished from each 
other, mainly, by the circumstances of the appointment of each ; 
the former being all directly appointed by Jesus himself, (ex- 
cepting Matthias, who took the forfeited commission of Judas 



12 XIVES OF THE APOSTLES. 

Iscariot,) while the latter were summoned to the duties of the 
apostleship after the ascension of Christ ; so that they, however 
highly equipped for the labors of the office, had never enjoyed 
his personal instructions ; and however well-assured of the divine 
summons to preach the gospel to the Gentiles, theirs was not a 
distinct personal and bodily commission, formally given to them, 
and repeatedly enforced and renewed, as it was to the chosen ones 
of Christ's own appointment. These later apostles, too, with 
hardly one exception, were foreign Jews, born and brought up 
beyond the bounds of the land of Israel, while the twelve were 
all Galileans, whose homes were within the holy precincts of 
their fathers' ancient heritage. Yet if the extent of their labors 
be regarded, the later commissioned must rank far above the 
twelve. Almost two thirds of the New Testament were written 
by Paul and his companions ; and before one of those commis- 
sioned by Jesus to go into all the world on their great errand, 
had ever gone beyond the boundary of Palestine, Paul, accompa- 
nied either by Barnabas, Mark, Silas, or Luke, had gone over 
Syria and Asia, traversed the sea into Greece, Macedonia, and II- 
lyria, bringing the knowledge of the word of truth to tens of 
thousands, who would never have heard of it, if they had been 
made to wait for its communication by the twelve. This he did 
through constant toils, dangers and sufferings, which as far trans- 
cended all which the Galilean Apostles had endured, as the mighty 
results of his labors did the immediate effects of theirs. And af- 
terwards, while they were struggling with the paltry and vexa- 
tious, though not very dangerous tyranny of the Sanhedrim, 
within the walls of Jerusalem, Paul was uttering the solemn truths 
of his high commission before governors and a king, making 
them to tremble with doubt and awe at his words ; and, at last, 
bearing, first of all, the name of Jesus to the capital of the world, 
he sounded the call of the gospel at the gates of Caesar. The 
Galilean apostles were indued with no natural advantages for 
communicating freely with foreigners ; their language, habits, 
customs and modes of instruction, were all hindrances in the way 
of a rapid and successful progress in such a labor, and they with 
great willingness gave up this vast field to the Hellenist preach- 
ers, while they occupied themselves, for the most part, with the 
still immense labor which their Lord had himself begun. For 
all the subtleties and mysticisms of their solemn foes, they were 
abundantly provided ; the whole training, which they had re- 



LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. 13 

ceived, under the personal instruction of their master, had fitted 
them mainly for this very warfare ; and they had seen him, times 
without number, sweep away all these refuges of lies. But, with 
the polished and truly learned philosophers of Athens, or the 
majestic lords of Rome, they would have felt the want of that 
minute knowledge of the characters and manners of both Greeks 
and Romans, with which Paul was so familiar, by the circum- 
stances of his birth and education, in a city highly favored by 
Roman laws and Grecian philosophy. Thus was it wisely or- 
dained, for the complete foundation and rapid extension of the 
gospel cause, that for each great field of labor there should be a 
distinct set of men, each peculiarly well fitted for their own de- 
partment of the mighty work. And by such divinely sagacious 
appointments, the certain and resistless advance of the faith of 
Christ was so secured, and so wonderfully extended beyond the 
deepest knowledge, and above the brightest hopes of its chief 
apostles, that at this distant day, in this distant land, far beyond 
the view even of the prophetic eye of that age, millions of a race 
unknown to them, place their names above all others, but one, on 
earth and in heaven ; and to spread the knowledge of the minute 
■details of their toils and triumphs, the laborious scholar should 
search the recorded learning of eighteen hundred years, and bring 
forth the fruits in the story of their lives. 

With such limitations and expansions of the term, then, this 
book attempts to give the history of the lives of the apostles. Of 
some who are thus designated, little else than their names being 
known, they can have no claim for a large space on these pages ; 
while to a few, whose actions determined the destiny of millions, 
and mainly effected the establishment of the Christian faith, the 
far greater part of the work will be given. 

The materials of this work should be found in all that has 
been written on the subject of New Testament history, since the 
scriptural canon was completed. But " who is sufficient for these 
things ?" A long life might find abundant employment in search- 
ing a thousand libraries, and compiling from a hundred thousand 
volumes, the facts and illustrations of this immense and noble 
subject ; and then the best energies of another long life would be 
needed to bring the mighty masses into form, and give them in a 
narrative for the mind of the unlearned. What, then, is here 
attempted, as a substitute for this immensity ? To give a clear 
distinct narrative of each apostle's life, with such illustrations o 



14 



LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. 



the character of the era, and the scene in which the incidents oc- 
curred, and such explanations of the terms in which they are re- 
corded, as may, consistently with the limits of this work, be drawn 
from the labors of the learned of ancient and modern times, which 
are within the writer's reach. Various and numerous are the 
books that swell the list of faithful and honest references ; many 
and weighty the volumes that have been turned over, in the long 
course of research ; ancient and venerable the dust, which has 
been shaken into suffocating clouds about the searcher's head, and 
have obscured his vision, as he dragged many a forgotten folio 
from the slumber of ages, to array the modern plunderer in the 
shreds and patches of antique lore. Histories, travels, geogra- 
phies, maps, commentaries, criticisms, introductions, and lexicons, 
have been " daily and nightly turned in the hand ;" and of this 
labor some fruit is offered on every page. But the unstained 
source of sacred history ! the pure well-spring, at which the 
wearied searcher always refreshed himself, after unrequited toils, 
through dry masses of erudition, was the simple story of the 
Apostles and Evangelists, told by themselves. In this same sim- 
ple story, indeed, were found the points on which the longest labor 
was required ; yet these, at best only illustrated, not improved, by 
all the labors of the learned of various ages, were the materials 
of the work. These are the preparations of months and years ; 
the execution must decide on their real value, — and that is yet 
to come. 

A list of the various works which have furnished the materials for this book might 
be proper here ; but in order to insure its completeness and accuracy, it is deferred 
to the end of the volume. 

A view of the world, as it toas at the time when the apos- 
tles began the work of spreading the gospel of Jesus Christ, 
may be convenient to remind some readers, and necessary to in- 
form others, in what way its political organization operated to aid 
or hinder the progress of the faith. The peculiarities of the go- 
vernment of the regions of civilization, were closely involved in 
the results of this religious revolution, and may be considered as 
having been, on the whole, most desirably disposed for the tri- 
umphant establishment of the dominion of Christ. 

From the shores of the Atlantic to the banks of the Indus, the 
sway of the Roman Caesar was acknowledged, by the millions of 
Western and Southern Europe, Northern Africa and South-west- 
ern Asia. The strong grasp of warlike power was a bond which 



LIVES OF THE APOSTLES* 15 

held together in peace many nations, who, but for that constraint, 
would, as their previous and subsequent history shows, have been 
arrayed against each other, in contests, destructive alike of the 
happiness of the contending parties and the comfort of their 
neighbors. The mighty force of Roman genius had overcome 
the thousand barriers which nature and art had reared between 
the different nations of the three continents in which it ruled, 
and the passage from one end of that vast empire to the other, 
was without any hindrance to those who traveled on errands of 
peace. The bloody strife which once distracted the tribes of 
Gaul, Germany and Britain, had rendered those grand sections 
of Europe impassable, and shut up each paltry tribe within a 
narrow boundary, which could never be crossed but with fire and 
sword. The deadly and furious contests among the nations of 
South-western Asia and South-eastern Europe, had long discou- 
raged the philosophical and commercial enterprise, once of old so 
rife and free among them, and offered a serious hindrance to the 
traveler, whether journeying for information or trade ; thus 
greatly checking the spread of knowledge, and limiting each na- 
tion, in a great measure, to its own resources in science and art. 
The Roman conquest, burying in one wide tomb all the jealousies 
and strifes of aspiring national ambition, thus put an end at once 
to all these causes of separation ; it brought long-divided nations 
into close union and acquaintance, and produced a more extensive 
and equal diffusion of knowledge, as well as greater facilities for 
commercial intercourse, than had ever been enjoyed before. The 
rapid result of the conquerors' policy was the consolidation of the 
various nations of that vast empire into one people, — peaceful, 
prosperous, and for the most part protected in their personal and 
domestic rights. The savage was tamed, the wanderers were re- 
claimed from the forest, which fell before the march of civiliza- 
tion, or from the desert, which soon rejoiced and blossomed under 
the mighty beneficence of Roman power. 

The fierce Gaul forsook his savage hut and dress together, ro- 
bing himself in the graceful toga of the Roman citizen, or the 
light tunic of the colonial cultivator, and reared his solid and 
lofty dwelling in clustering cities or villages, whose deep laid 
foundations yet endure, in lasting testimony of the nature of Ro- 
man conquest and civilization. Under his Roman rulers and 
patrons, he raised piles of art, unequaled in grandeur, beauty and 
durability, by any similar works in the world. Aqueducts and 



1G LIVES OF THE APOSTLES.'. 

theaters, still only in incipient ruin, proclaim, in their slow de- 
cay, the greatness of those who reared them, in a land so lately 
savage. 

The Pont du gard, at Nismes, and the amphitheaters, temples, arches, gates, baths, 
bridges, and mausolea, which still adorn that city and Aries, Vienne, Rheims, Be- 
sancon, Autun and Metz, are the instances, to which I direct those whose knowledge 
of antiquity is not sufficient to suggest these splendid remains. Almost any well- 
written book of travels in France will give the striking details of their present con- 
dition. Malte-Brun also slightly alludes to them, and may be consulted by those who 
wish to learn more of the proofs of my assertion than this brief notice can give. 

The warlike Numidian and the wild Mauritanian, under the 
same iron instruction, had long ago learned to robe their primitive 
half-nakedness in the decent garments of civilized man. Even 
the distant Getulian found the high range of Atlas no sure bar- 
rier, against the wave of triumphant arms and arts, which rolled 
resistlessly over him, and spent itself only on the pathless sands 
of wide Sahara. So far did that all-subduing genius spread its 
work, and so deeply did it make its marks, beyond the most dis- 
tant and impervious boundary of modern civilization, that the 
latest march of discovery has found far older adventurers before 
it, even in the great desert ; and within a dozen years, European 
travelers have brought to our knowledge walls and inscriptions, 
which, after mouldering unknown in the dry, lonely waste,, for 
ages, at last met the astonished eyes of these gazers, with the still 
striking witness of Roman power. 

The travels of Denham and Clapperton across the desert, from Tripoli to Bor- 
nou, — of Ritchie and Lyon, to Fezzan, — of Horneman and others, will abundantly 
illustrate this passage. 

Egypt, already twice classic, and renowned through two mighty 
and distant series of ages, renewed her fading glories under new 
conquerors, no less worthy to possess and adorn the land of the 
Pharaohs, than were the Ptolemies. In that ancient home of art, 
the new conquerors achieved works, inferior indeed to the still 
lasting monuments of earlier greatness, but no less effectual in 
securing the ornament and defense of the land. With a warlike 
genius far surpassing the most triumphant energy of former ru- 
lers, the legionaries of Rome made the valley of the Nile, from 
its mouth to the eighth cataract, safe and wealthy. The desert 
wanderers, whose hordes had once overwhelmed the throne of the 
Pharaohs, and baffled the revenge of the Macedonian monarchs, 
were now crushed, curbed, or driven into the wilds ; while the 
peaceful tiller of the ground, secure against their lawless attacks, 
brought his rich harvests to. a fair and certain market, through. 



LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. 17 

the ports and million ships of the Mediterranean, to the gate of 
his noble conquerors, within the capital of the world. 

The grinding tyranny of the cruel despots of Pontus, Arme- 
nia and Syria,"had, one after another, been swept away before 
the republican hosts of Sylla, Lucullus and Pompey ; and the 
remorseless, stupid selfishness that has always characterized ori- 
ental despotism, even to this day, had been followed by the mild 
and generous exercise of that almost omnipotent sway, which 
the condition of the people, in most cases, showed to have been 
administered, in the main, for the good of its subjects. 

The case of Verres will perhaps rise to the minds of some of my readers, as op- 
posed to this favorable view of Roman government ; but the whole account of this 
and similar tyranny shows that such cases were looked on as most remarkable enor- 
mities, and they are recorded and noticed in such terms of abhorrence, as to justify 
us in quoting with peculiar force, the maxim, " Exceptio probat regulam." 

Towards the farthest eastern boundary of the empire, the Par- 
thian, fighting as he fled, held out against the advance of the 
western conquerors, in a harassing and harassed independence. 
The mountains and forests of central Europe, and of North Bri- 
tain, too, were still manfully defended by their savage owners ; 
yet, when they at last met the iron hosts of Germanicus, Trajan, 
and Agricola, they, in their turn, fell under the last triumphs of 
the Roman eagle. But the peace and prosperity of the empire, 
and even of provinces near the scene, were not moved by these 
disturbances. And thus, in a longitudinal line of four thousand: 
miles, and within a circuit of ten thousand, the energies of Ro- 
man genius had hushed all wars, and stilled the nations into a 
long, unbroken peace, which secured the universal good. So 
nearly true was the lyric description, given by Milton, of the 
universal peace which attended the coming of the Messiah : 

" No war or battle sound, 

Was heard the world around ; 

The idle spear and shield were high uphung; 

The hooked chariot stood, 

Unstained with hostile blood, 

The trumpet spake not to the armed throng ; 

And kings sat still with awful eye, 

As if they surely knew their sovran lord was by." 

The efforts of the conquerors did not cease with the mere 
military subjugation of a country, but were extended far beyond 
the extinction of the hostile force. The Roman soldier was not 
a mere fighter, nor were his labors, out of the conflict, confined 
to the erection of military works only. The stern discipline, 
which made his arms triumphant in the day of battle, had also 



18 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. 

taught him cheerfully to exchange those triumphant arms for the 
tools of peaceful labor, that he might insure the solid permanency 
of his conquests, by the perfection of such works as would make 
tranquillity desirable to the conquered, and soothe them to repose 
under a dominion which so effectually secured their good. Roads, 
that have made Roman ways proverbial, and which the perfection 
of modern art has never equaled in more than one or two in- 
stances, reached from the capital to the farthest bounds of the 
empire. Seas, long dangerous and almost impassable for the 
trader and enterprising voyager, were swept of every piratical 
vessel ; and the most distant channels of the Aegean and Levant, 
where the corsair long ruled triumphant, both before and since, 
became as safe as the porches of the capitol. Regions, to which 
nature had furnished the indispensable gift of water, neither in 
abundance nor purity, were soon blessed with artificial rivers, 
flowing over mighty arches, that will crumble only with the pyra- 
mids. In the dry places of Africa and Asia, as well as in distant 
Gaul, mighty aqueducts and gushing fountains refreshed the fe- 
verish traveler, and gave reality to the poetical prophecy, that 
" In the wilderness shall waters break out, and streams in the desert." 

Roads. — I was at first disposed to make some few exceptions to this sweeping com- 
mendation of the excellence of Roman roads, by referring simply to my general 
impressions of the comparative perfection of these and modem works of the same 
character; but on revising the facts by an examination of authorities, I have been 
led to strike out the exceptions. Napoleon's great road over the Simplon, the great 
northern road from London to Edinburgh, and some similar works in Austria, 
seemed, before comparison, in extent, durability, and in their triumphs over nature, 
to equal, if not surpass, the famed Roman ways ; but a reference to the minute de- 
scriptions of these mighty works, sets the ancient far above the modern art. The 
Via Appia, " regina via/rwm" {Papinius Slativs in, Surrenlino Pollii,) stretching 
three hundred and seventy miles from Rome to the bounds of Italy, built of squared 
stone, as hard as flints, and brought from a great distance, so laid together that for miles 
they seemed but a single stone, and so solidly fixed, that at this day, the road is as en- 
tire in many places as when first made, — the Via Flaminia, built in the same solid 
manner, — the Via Aemilia, five hundred and twenty-seven miles long, — the Via 
Pertuensis, with its enormous double cause-way, — the vaulted roads of Puzzuoli and 
Baiae, hewn half a league through the solid rock, and the thousand remains of simi- 
lar and contemporaneous works in various parts of the world, where some are in use 
even to this day, as far better than any modern highway,— all these are enough to 
show the inquirer, that the commendation given to these works in the text, is not 
over-wrought nor unmerited. The minute details of the construction of these ex- 
traordinary works, with many other interesting particulars, may be much more fully 
learned in Rees's Cyclopaedia, Articles Way, Via, Bond, Appian, &c. 

Aqueducts. — The' common authorities on" this subject, refer to none of these mighty 
Roman works, except those around the city of Rome itself. Those of Nismes and 
Mctz, in Gaul, and that of Segovia, in Spain, are sometimes mentioned; but the 
reader would be led to suppose, that other portions of the Roman empire were not 
blessed with these noble works. Rees's Cyclopaedia is very full on this head, in re- 
spect to the aqueducts of the great city itself, but conveys the impression that they 
were not known in many distant parts of the empire. Montfaucon gives no more 
satisfactory information on the subject. But a reference to books of travels or topo- 
graphy, which describe the remains of Roman art in its ancient provinces in Africa 



LIVES OE THE APOSTLES. 19 

and Asia, will at once give a vivid impression of the extent and frequency ef these 
works. Shaw's travels in northern Africa, give accounts of aqueducts, cisterns, 
fountains, and reservoirs, along through all the ancient Roman dominions in that 
region. The Modern Traveler (by Conder) will give abundant accounts of the re- 
mains of these works, in this and various other countries alluded to in the text ; and 
some of them, still so perfect, as to serve the common uses of the inhabitants to this 
day. 

All these mighty influences, working for the peace and comfort 
of mankind, and so favorable to the spread of religious know- 
ledge, had been further secured by the triumphant and firm estab- 
lishment of the throne of the Caesars. Under the fitful sway of 
the capricious democracy of Rome, conquest had indeed steadily 
stretched east, west, north and south, alike over barbarian and 
Greek, through the wilderness and the city. A long line of illus- 
trious consuls, such as Marcellus, the Scipios, Aemilius, Marius, 
Sylla, Lucullus and Pompey, had, during the last two centuries 
of the republic, added triumph to triumph, in bright succession, 
thronging the streets of the seven-hilled city with captive kings, 
and more than quadrupling her dominion. But while the cor- 
ruption of conquest was fast preparing the dissipated people to 
make a willing exchange of their political privileges, for " bread 
and amusements ;" the enlightened portion of the citizens were 
getting tired of the distracting and often bloody changes of popu- 
lar favoritism, and were ready to receive as a welcome deliverer, 
any man who could give them a calm and rational despotism, in 
place of the remorseless and ferocious tyranny of a brutal mob. 
In this turn of the world's destiny, there arose one, in all points 
equal to the task of sealing both justice and peace to the van- 
quished nations, by wringing from the hands of a haughty people, 
the same political power which they had caused so many to give 
up to their unsparing gripe. He was one who, while, to common 
eyes, he seemed devoting the flower of his youth and the strength 
of his manhood to idleness and debauchery, was learning such 
wisdom as could never have been learned in the lessons of the 
sage, — wisdom in the characters, the capabilities, the corruption 
and venality of his plebeian sovrans. And yet he was not one 
who scorned the lessons of the learned, nor turned away from the 
records of others' knowledge. In the schools of Rhodes, he sat 
a patient student of the art and science of the orator, and 
searched deeply into the stored treasures of Grecian philosophy. 
Resplendent in arms as in arts, he devoted to swift and deserved 
destruction the pirates of the Aegean, while yet only a raw stu- 
dent ; and with the same energy and rapidity, in Rome, attained 



20 



LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. 



the peaceful triumphs of the eloquence which had so long been his 
study. The flight of years passed over him, alike victorious in 
the factious strife of the capital, and in the deadly struggle with 
the Celtic savages of North-western Europe. Ruling long-con- 
quered Spain in peace, and subjugating still barbarous Gaul, he 
showed the same ascendent genius which made the greatest minds 
of Rome his willing and despised tools, and crushed them when 
they at last dreamed of independence or resistance. In the art 
military, supreme and unconquered, whether met by the desperate 
savage of the forest or desert, or by the veteran legions of re- 
publican Rome, — in the arts of intrigue, more than a match for 
the subtlest deceivers of a jealous democracy, — as an orator, win- 
ning the hearts and turning the thoughts of those who were the 
hearers of Cicero, — as a writer, unmatched even in that Ciceroni- 
an age, for strength and flowing ease, though writing in a camp, 
amid the fatigues of a savage warfare, — in all the accomplish- 
ments that adorn and soften, and in all the manly exercises that 
ennoble and strengthen, alike complete, — in battle, in storm, on 
the ocean and on land, in the collected fury of the charge, and 
the sudden shock of the surprise, always dauntless and cool, 
showing a courage never shaken, though so often tried, — to his 
friends kind and generous, — to his vanquished foes, without ex- 
ception, merciful and forgiving, — beloved by the former, respect- 
ed by the latter, and adored by the people, — a scholar, an astrono- 
mer, a poet, a wit, a gallant, an orator, a statesman, a warrior, a 
governor, a monarch, — his vast and various attainments, so won- 
derful in that wonderful age, have secured to him, from the great 
of his own and all following ages, the undeniable name of the 

MOST PERFECT CHARACTER OF ALL ANTIQ.UITY. Such a man 

was CAIUS JULIUS CAESAR. He saved the people from 
themselves ; he freed them from their own tyranny, and ended 
forever, in Rome, the power of the populace to meddle with the 
disposal of the great interests of the consolidated nations of the 
empire. It was necessary that it should be so. The empire was 
too vast for an ignorant and stupid democracy to govern. The 
safety and comfort of the world required a better rule ; and never 
was any man, in the course of Providence, more wonderfully pre- 
pared as the instrument of a mighty work, than was Julius Caesar, 
as the founder of a power which was to last till the fall of Rome. 
For the accomplishment of this wonderful purpose, every one of 
his countless excellences seems to have done something ; and no- 



LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. 21 

thing less than he, could have thus achieved a task, which pre- 
pared the way for the advance of a power, that was to outlast his 
throne and the Eternal city. Under the controlling influence of his 
genius, the world was so calmed, subjugated and arranged, that 
the gates of all nations were opened for the peaceful entrance of 
the preachers of the gospel. So solidly did he lay the founda- 
tion of his dominion, that even his own murder, by the objects of 
his undeserved clemency, made not the slightest change in the fate 
of Rome ; for the paltry intrigues and fights of a few years ended 
in placing the power, which Caesar had won, in the hands of his 
heir and namesake, whose most glorious triumphs were but 
straws on the mighty stream of events, which Julius had set in 
motion. 

Caesar. — Those who are accustomed merely to the common cant of many would-be 
philanthropists, about the destruction of the liberties of Rome, and the bloody-minded 
atrocity of their destroyer, will doubtless feel shocked at the favorable view taken 
of his character, above. The truth is, there was no liberty in Rome for Caesar to 
destroy ; the question of political freedom having been long before settled in the tri- 
umphant ascendency of faction, the only choice was between one tyrant and ten 
thousand. No one can question that Caesar was the fair choice of the great mass 
©f the people. They were always on his side, in opposition to the aristocracy, who 
sought his rain because they considered him dangerous to their privileges, and their 
liberty (to tyrannize;) and their fears were grounded on the very circumstance that 
the vast majority of the people were for him. This was the condition of parties until 
Caesar's death, and long after, to the time of the final triumph of Octavius. Not one 
of Caesar's friends among the people ever became his enemy, or considered him as 
having betrayed their affection by his assumptions of power. Those who murdered 
him, and plunged the world from a happy, universal peace, into the devastating hor- 
rors of a wide spread and protracted civil war, were not the patriotic avengers of an 
oppressed people ; they were the jealous supporters of a haughty aristocracy, who 
saw their powers and dignity diminished, in being shared with vast numbers of the 
lower orders, added to the senate by Caesar, whose steady determination to humble 
them they saw in his refusal to pay them homage by rising, when the hereditary 
aristocracy of Rome took their seats in senate. It was to redeem the failing powers 
of their privileged order, that these aristocratic assassins murdered the man, whose 
mercy had triumphed over his prudence, in sparing the forfeited lives of these here- 
ditary, dangerous foes of popular rights. Nor could they for a moment blind the 
people to the nature and object of their action; for as soon as the murder had been 
committed, the universal cry for justice, which rose at once from the whole mass 
of the people, indignant at the butchery of their friend, drove the gang of conspirators 
from Rome and from Italy, which they were never permitted again to enter. Those 
who thronged to the standards of the heir and friend of Caesar, were the hosts of de- 
mocracy , who never rested till they had crushed and exterminated the miserable faction 
of aristocrats, who had hoped to triumph over the mass of the people, by the death 
of the people's great friend. Now if the people of Rome chose to give up their whole 
power, and the disposal of their political affairs, into the hands of a great, a talented, 
a generous and heroic man, like Caesar, who had so effectually vindicated and secu- 
red their freedom against the claims of a domineering aristocracy, and if they after- 
wards remained so well satisfied with the use which he made of this power, as never 
to make the slightest effort, nor on any occasion to express the least wish, to resume 
it, I would like to know who had any business to hinder the sovran people from so 
doing, or what blame can in any way be laid to Caesar's charge, for accepting, and 
for nobly and generously using the power so freely and heartily given up to him. 

The protracted detail of his mental and physical greatness, given in the sketch 
of his character above, would need for its full defense and illustration, the mention 
of such numerous particulars, that I must be content with challenging any doubter, 

4 



22 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. 

to a reference to the record of the actions of his life, and such a reference will abun- 
dantly confirm every particular of the description. The steady and unanimous de- 
cision of the learned and the truly great of different ages, since his time, is enough 
to show his solid claims to the highest praise here given. Passing over the glory so 
uniformly yielded to him by the learned and eloquent of ancient days, we have among 
moderns the disinterested opinions of such men as the immortal Lord Verulam, from 
whom came the sentence given above, pronouncing him "the most perfect character 
of all antiquijy;" a sentiment which, probably, no man of minute historical knowledge 
ever read, without a hearty acquiescence. This opinion has been quoted with ap- 
probation by our own greatest statesman, Alexander Hamilton, than whom none 
knew better how to appreciate real greatness. Lord Byron (Note 47 on Canto IV. 
of Childe Harold,) also quotes this sentence approvingly, and in the same passage 
gives a most interesting view of Caesar's versatile genius and varied accomplish- 
ments, entering more fully into some particulars than that here given. The sentence 
of the Roman historian, Suetonius, {Jure caesus existimetur,) seems to me to refer, 
not to the moral fitness or actual right of his murder, but to the common law or an- 
cient usage of Rome, by which any person of great influence, who was considered 
powerful enough to be dangerous to the ascendency of the patrician rank, or to the 
established order of things in any way, might be killed by any self-constituted execu- 
tioner, even though the person thus murdered on bare susjucion of a liability to become 
dangerous, should really be innocent of the charge of aspiring to supreme power. 
("Melium jure caesum pronuntiavit, etiam si regni criviine insuns fuerib." Liv. lib. 
iv. cap. 48.) The idea, that such an abominable outrage on the claim of an innocent. 
man to his own life, could ever be seriously defended as morally right, is too palpably 
preposterous to bear a consideration. Such a principle of policy must have origin- 
ated in a republicanism, somewhat similar to that which sanctions those exertions 
of democratic power, which have lately become famous under the name of Lynch 
law. It was a principle which in Rome enabled the patrician order to secure the 
destruction of any popular man of genius and intelligence, who, being able, might 
become willing to effect a revolution which would humble the power of "the patrician 
aristocracy. The murder of the Gracchi, also, may be taken as a fair manifestation 
of the way in which the aristocracy were disposed to check the spirit of reform. 

The work of Caesar, then, was twofold, like the tyranny which he was to subvert, 
and well did he achieve both objects of his mighty efforts. Having first brought 
down the pride and the power of an overbearing aristocracy, he next, by the force 
of the same dominant genius, wrested the ill-wielded dominion from the unsteady 
hands of the fickle democracy, making them willingly subservient to the great pur- 
pose of their own subjugation, and acquiescent in the generous sway of one, whom a 
sort of political inslinct taught them to fix on, as the man destined to rule them. 

Thus were the complicated and contradictory principles of Roman government 
exchanged for the simplicity of monarchical rule; an exchange most desirable for 
the peace and security of the subjects of the government. The empire was no longer 
shaken with the constant vacillations of supremacy from the aristocracy to the de- 
mocracy, and from the democracy to the demagogues, alternately their tyrants and 
their slaves. The solitary tyranny of an emperor was occasionally found terrible 
in some of its details, but the worst ol these could never outgo the republican cruel- 
ties of Marius and Sylla, and there was, at least, this one advantage en the side of those 
suffering under the "monarchical tyranny, which would not be available in the case 
of the victims of inob-despoti>m. This was the ease with which a single stroke with 
a well-aimed dagger could remove the evil at once, and secure some chance of a 
change for the better, as was the case with Caligula, Nero, and Domitian ; and though 
the advantages of the change were much more manifest in the two latter cases than 
in the former, yet, even in that, the relief experienced was worth the effort. But a 
whole tyrannical populace could not be so easily and summarily disposed of; and 
those who suffered by such despotism, could only wait till the horrible butcheries 
of civil strife, or the wasting carnage of foreign warfare, had used up the energies 
and the superfluous blood of the populace, and swept the flower of the democracy, 03^ 
legions, to a wide and quiet grave. The remedy of the evil was therefore much 
slower, and more undesirable in its operation, in this case, than in the other; while 
the evil itself was actually more widely injurious. For, on the one hand, what im- 
perial tyrant ever sacrificed so many victims in Rome, oi produced such wide- wasting 
ruin, as either of those republican chiefs, Marius and Sylla ? And on the other hand, 
when, in the most glorious and peaceful days of the aristocratic or democratic sway, 



LTVES OF THE APOSTLES, 23 

aid military glory, literature, science, art, commerce, and the whole common weal, 
so flourish and advance, as under the imperial Augustus, the sage Vespasian and 
the amiable Titus, the heroic Trajan, the polished Adrian, or the wise and philo- 
sophic Antonines 1 Never did Rome wear the aspect of a truly majestic city, till the 
imperial pride of her long line of Caesars had filled her with the temples, amphi- 
theaters, circuses, aqueducts, baths, triumphal columns and arches, which to this day 
perpetuate the solid glory of the founders, and make her the wonder of the world, 
while not one surviving great work of art claims a republican for its author. 

To such a glory did the Caesars raise her, and from such a splendor did she fade, 
as now. 

" Such is the moral of all human tales; 
'Tis but the same rehearsal of the past, — 

First freedom, and then gloiy — when that fails, 
Wealth, vice, corruption, — barbarism at last, 

And history, with all her volumes vast, 

Hath but one page." 

An allusion to such a man, in such a book as this, could not be 
justified, but on this satisfactory ground ;— that the changes which 
he wrought in the Roman government, and the conquests by 
which he spread and secured the influence of Roman civilization, 
seem to have done more than any other political action could do, 
to effect the general diffusion, and the perpetuity of the Christian 
faith. A glance at these great events, in this light, will show to 
us the first imperial Caesar, as Christ's most mighty precursor, 
unwittingly preparing the way for the advance of the Messiah, — 
a bloody and all-crushing warrior, opening the path for the equally 
resistless triumphs of the Prince of Peace. Even this striking 
characteristic, of cool and unscrupulous ambition, became a most 
glorious means for the production of this strange result. This 
same moral obtuseness, too, about the right of conquest, so hein- 
ous in the light of modern ethics, but so blameless, and even 
praise-worthy in the eyes of the good and great of Caesar's days, 
shows us how low was the world's standard of right before the 
coming of Christ ; and yet this insensibility became, in the hands 
of the God who causes the wrath of man to praise him, a doubly 
powerful means of spreading that faith, whose essence is love to 
man. 

Look over the world, then, as it was before the Roman con- 
quest, and see the difficulties, both physical and moral, that would 
have attended the universal diffusion of a new and peaceful reli- 
gious faith. Barbarous nations, all over the three continents, 
warring with each other, and with the failing outworks of civil- 
ization—besotted tyranny, wearing out the energies of its sub- 
jects, by selfish and all-grasping folly, — sea and land swarming 
with marauders, and every wheel of science and commerce roll- 
ing backward or breaking down. Such was the seemingly re- 



24 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. 

sistless course of events, when the star of Roman fortune rose on 
the world, under whose influence, at once destructive and be- 
nign, the advancing hosts of barbarity were checked and over- 
thrown, and their triumphs stayed for five hundred years ; the 
elegance of Grecian refinement was transplanted from the unwor- 
thy land of its birth, to Italian soil, and the most ancient tracks 
of commerce, as well as many new ones, were made as safe as 
they are at this peaceful day. The mighty Caesar, last of all, 
casting down all thrones but his, and laying the deep basis of its 
lasting dominion in the solid good of millions, filled up the val- 
leys, leveled the mountains, and smoothed the plains, for the 
march of that monarch, whose kingdom is without end. 

The connection of such a political change with the success of 
the Christian enterprise, and with the perfect development and 
triumph of our peaceful faith, depends on the simple truth, that 
Christianity always flourishes best in the most highly civilized 
communities, and can never be so developed as to do full justice 
to its capabilities, in any state of society, short of the highest 
point of civilization. It never has been received, and held uncor- 
rupt, by mere savages or wanderers ; and it never can be. Thus 
and therefore it was, that wherever Roman conquest spread, and 
secured the lasting triumphs of civilization, thither Christianity 
followed, and flourished, as on a congenial soil, till at last not one 
land was left in the whole empire, where the eagle and the dove 
did not spread their wings in harmonious triumph. In all these 
lands, where Roman civilization prepared the way, Christian 
churches rose, and gathered within them the noble and the re- 
fined, as well as the humble and the poor. Spain, Gaul, Britain 
and Africa, as well as the ancient homes of knowledge, Egypt, 
Greece and Asia, are instances of this kind. And in every one 
of these, the reign of the true faith become coeval with civiliza- 
tion, yielding in some instances, it is true, on the advance of 
modern barbarism, but only when the Arabian prophet made 
them bow before his sword. Yet while within the pale of Ro- 
man conquest, Christianity supplanted polytheism, beyond that 
wide circle, heathenism remained long undisturbed, till the vic- 
torious march of the barbarian conquerors, over the empire of 
the Caesars, secured the extension of the gospel to them also ; — 
the vanquished, in one sense, triumphing in turn over the vic- 
tors, by making them the submissive subjects of Roman civiliza- 
tion, language, and religion ; — so that, for the first five hundred 



LIVES OP THE APOSTLES. 25 

years of the Christian era, the dominion of the Caesars was the 
most efficient earthly instrument for the extension of the faith. 
The persecution which the followers of the new faith occasion- 
ally suffered, were the results of aberrations from the general 
principles of tolerance, which characterized the religious policy 
of the empire ; and after a few such acts of insane cruelty, the 
natural course of reaction brought the persecuted religion into 
fast increasing and finally universal favor. 

If the religion, thus widely and lastingly diffused, was cor- 
rupted from the simplicity of the truth as it was in Jesus, this 
corruption is to be charged, not against the Romans, but against 
the unworthy successors of the apostles and ancient fathers, who 
sought to make the severe beauty of the naked truth more ac- 
ceptable to the heathenish fancies of the people, by robing it in 
the borrowed finery of mythology. Yet, though thus humiliated 
in its triumph, the victory of Christianity over that complex and 
dazzling religion, was most complete. The faith to which Ital- 
ians and Greeks had been devoted for ages, — which had drawn 
its first and noblest principles from the mysterious sources of the 
antique Etruscan, Egyptian and Phoenician, and had enriched its 
dark and boundless plan with all that the varied superstitions of 
every conquered people could furnish, — the faith which had root- 
ed itself so deeply in the poetry, the patriotism, and the language 
of the Roman, and had so twined itself with every scene of his; 
nation's glory, from the days of Romulus, — now gave way before 
the simple word of the carpenter of Nazareth, and was so torn 
up and swept away from its strong holds, that the very places: 
which through twenty generations its triumphs had hallowed r 
were now turned into shrines for the worship of the God of de- 
spised Judah. So utterly was the Olympian Jove unseated, and 
cast down from his long-dreaded throne, that his name passed 
away forever from the worship of mankind, and has never been 
recalled, but with contempt. He, and all his motley train of gods 
and goddesses, are remembered no more with reverence, but van- 
ishing from even the knowledge of the mass of the people, are 

" Gone glimmering through the dreams of things that were," — 
" A school-boy's tale." 

Every ancient device for the perpetuation of the long establish- 
ed faith, disappeared in the advancing light of the gospel. Tem- 
ples, statues, oracles, festivals, and all the solemn paraphernalia 
of superstition, were swept to oblivion, or, changing their names 



26 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. 

only, were made the instruments of recommending the new faith 
to the eyes of the common people. But, however the pliant spirit 
of the degenerate successors of the early fathers might bend to 
the vulgar superstitions of the day, the establishment of the 
Christian religion, upon the ruins of Roman heathenism, was 
e-ffected with a completeness that left not a name to live behind 
them, nor the vestige of a form, to keep alive in the minds of the 
people, the memory of the ancient religion. The words applied 
by our great poet to the time of Christ's birth, have something 
more than poetical force, as a description of the absolute exter- 
mination of these superstitions, both public and domestic, on the 
final triumph of Christianity : 

" The oracles are dumb ; 

No voice or hideous hum 

Rolls through the arched roof in words deceiving. 

Apollo from his shrine 

Can no more divine, 

With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving. 

No nightly trance or breathed spell, 

Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell." 

***** 
" In consecrated earth 
And on the holy hearth, 

The Lars and Lemures moan with midnight plaint ; 
In urns and altars round, 
A drear and dying sound, 
Affrights the Flamens at their service quaint ; 
And the chill marble seems to sweat, 
While each peculiar power foregoes his wonted seat." 

Thus were the mighty labors of human ambition made sub- 
servient to the still greater achievements of divine benevolence ; 
thus did the unholy triumphs of the hosts of heathenism become, 
in the hands of the All-wise, the surest means of spreading the 
holy and peace-making truths of Christianity, to the ends of the 
earth, — otherwise unapproachable without a miracle. The do- 
minion which thus grew upon and over the vast empire of Rome, 
though growing with her growth and strengthening with her 
strength, sunk not with her weakness, but, stretching abroad 
fresh branches, whose leaves were for the healing of nations then 
unknown, showed its divine origin by its immortality ; while, 
alas ! its human modifications betrayed themselves in its dimin- 
ished grace and ill-preserved symmetry. Yet in spite of these, 
rather than by means of them, it rose still mightier above the 
ruins of the empire, under whose shadow it had grown, till, at 
last, supplanting Roman and Goth alike, it fixed its roots on the 
seven hills of the Eternal city ; where, thenceforth, for hundreds 



LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. 27 

of years, the head of Christendom, ruling with a power more 

absolute than her imperial sway, saw more than the Roman world 

beneath him. Even to this day, vast and countless " regions, 

Caesar never knew," own him of Rome as " the center of unity f 

and lands 

" farther west 
Than the Greek's islands of the blest," 

and farther east than the long unpassed bounds of Roman con- 
quest, turn, with an adoration and awe immeasurably greater than 
the most exalted of the apotheosized Caesars ever received, to him 
who claims the name of the successor of the poor fisherman of 
Galilee. 



Such, and so vast, was the revolution, to the achievement of 
which, the lives and deeds of the apostles most essentially con- 
tributed, — a revolution which, even if looked on as the result of 
mere human effort, must appear the most wonderful ever effected 
by such humble human means, as these narratives will show to 
have been used. The character of the men first chosen by the 
founder of the faith, as the instruments of spreading the lasting- 
conquests of his gospel, — their birth, their country, their provin- 
cial peculiarities, — all marked them as most unlikely persons to 
undertake the overthrow of the religious prejudices even of their 
own countrymen ; and still less groundless must have been the 
hope that any of Jewish race, however well taught in the wisdom 
of the world, could so far overcome the universal feeling of dis- 
like, with which this peculiar nation were regarded, as to bring 
the learned, the powerful and the great of Rome and Greece, and 
of Eastern lands, to own a low-born Galilean workman as their 
guide to truth,— the author of their hopes of life eternal. Yet 
went they forth even to this task, whose achievement was so far 
beyond the range of human hopes ; and with a zeal as far above 
the inspiration of human ambition, they gave their energies and 
their lives to this desperate commission. "Without a hope of an 
earthly triumph or an earthly reward, — without even a prospect 
of a peaceful death or an honored grave, while they lived, they 
spent their strength fearlessly for him who sent them forth ; 
and when they died, their last breath went out in triumph at 
the near prospect of their lasting gain. 

In giving the lives of these men, many incidents will require 
notice, in which no individual apostle was concerned alone, but 



28 LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. 

the whole company to which he belonged. In each class of the 
apostles, these incidents will be given under the head of the prin- 
cipal person in that class, whose life is placed before the rest. 
Thus, those matters in which all the twelve had a common in- 
terest, and in which no particular apostle is named, will find a 
place in the life of Peter, their great leader ; and among the later 
apostles, the distinct pre-eminence of Paul will, of course, cause 
all matters of common interest to be absorbed in his life, while 
of his companions nothing farther need be recorded, than those 
things which immediately concern them. 



I. THE GALILEAN APOSTLES 



SIMON CEPHAS, 
COMMONLY CALLED SIMON PETER. 



HIS APOSTOLIC RANK. 

The order in which the names of the apostles are arranged 
in this book, can make little difference in the interest which 
their history will excite in the reader's mind, nor can such an 
arrangement, of itself, do much to affect his opinion of their 
comparative merits ; yet to their biographer, it becomes a mat- 
ter of some importance, as well as interest, to show not only au- 
thority, but reason, for the order in which he ranks them. 

Sufficient authority for placing Simon Cephas first, is found in 
the three lists of the apostles given respectively by Matthew, Mark 
and Luke, which, though differing as to their arrangement in some 
particulars, entirely agree in giving to this apostle the precedence 
of all. But it would by no means become the earnest and faith- 
ful searcher into sacred history, to rest satisfied with a bare re- 
ference to the unerring word, on a point of so much interest. So 
far from it, the strictest reverence for the sacred record both 
allows and urges the inquiry, as to what were the circumstances 
of Peter's life and character, that led the three evangelists thus 
unanimously and decidedly to place him at the head of the sa- 
cred band, on all whom, in common, rested the commissioned 
power of doing the marvelous works of Jesus, and spreading his 
gospel in all the world. Was this preference the result of mere 
incidental circumstances, such as age, prior calling, (fee. ? Or, 
does it mark a pre-eminence of character or qualifications, enti- 
tling him to lead and rule the apostolic company in the name of 
Christ, as the commissioned chief of the faithful ? 

The reason of this preference, as far as connected with his 
character, will of course be best shown in the incidents of his life 
and conduct, as detailed in this narrative. But even here much 



32 9IM0N CEPH LS 

may be brought forward to throw light on the ground of Peter's 
rank, as first of the apostles. It is no more than fair to remark, 
however, that some points of this inquiry have been very deep- 
ly, and at the same time, very unnecessarily involved in the dis- 
putes between Protestants and Papists, respecting the original su- 
premacy of the church of Rome, as supposed to have been found- 
ed or ruled by this chief apostle. 

Of the many suppositions which might be made to account 
for Peter's priority of station on the apostolic list, it may be 
enough to notice the following : That, he was by birth the 
oldest of the twelve. This assertion, however boldly made by 
some, rests entirely on conjecture, as we have no certain inform- 
ation on this point, either from the New Testament or any ancient 
writer of indisputable credit. Those of the early Christian wri- 
ters who allude to this matter, are quite contradictory in their 
statements, some supposing Peter to be the oldest of the apostles, 
and some supposing Andrew to be older than his brother ; — a 
discrepancy that may well entitle us to conclude that they had no 
certain information about the matter. The weight of testimony, 
however, seems rather against the assertion that Peter was the 
oldest, inasmuch as the earliest writer who alludes at all to the 
subject, very decidedly pronounces Andrew to have been the older 
brother. Enough, then, is known, to prevent our relying on his 
seniority as the true ground of his precedence. Still this point 
must be considered as entirely doubtful ; so doubtful that it cannot 
be considered as proof, in the argument. 

The oldest Christian writer, who refers in any way to the comparative age of Peter, 
is Epiphanius, bishop of Cyprus, as early as A. D. 368. In his great work against 
heresies, (book ii. vol. 1, heresy 51,) in narrating the call of Andrew and Peter, he 
says, " The meeting (with Jesus) happened first to Andrew, Peter being less than 
him in age," (jiixpoTcpov ovtos rw xp ov V r ^ ^«'«?-) "But afterwards, when their 
complete forsaking of all earthly things is mentioned, Peter takes precedence, since 
God, who sees the turn of all characters, and knows who is fit for the highest 
places, chose Peter as the chief leader (apx r 'Y 0V ) °f his disciples." This, certainly, 
is a very distinct assertion of Peter's juniority, and is plainly meant to give the idea 
that Peter's high rank among the apostles was due to a superiority of talent, which 
put him above those who were older. 

In favor of the assertion that Peter was older than Andrew, the earliest authority 
that has ever been cited, is John Chrysostom, bishop of Constantinople, about A. D. 
400. This Father, in his homily on Matthew xvii. 27, (Horn. 59,) says that Peter 
was a "first-born son," (npuroTOKos.) In this passage, he is speaking of the tribute 
paid by Jesus and Peter for the expenses of the temple. He supposes that this tribute 
was the redemption-money due from the first-born sons of the Jews, for their exemp- 
tion from the duties of the priesthood. But the account of this tax, in Numbers iii. 
41 — 51, shows that this was a tax of five shekels apiece, while that spoken of by 
Matthew, is called the didrachvwn, a Greek coin equivalent to a A«Z/-shekel. Now 
the half-shekel tax was that paid by every Jew above the age of twenty years, for 
the expenses of the temple service! as is fully described m Exodus xxx. 12 — 16; 
xxxviii. 26. Josephus also mentions this half-shekel tax, as due from every Jew, 



SIMON" CEPHAS. 33 

for the service of the temple. (See Hammond on Matt, xvii, 24.) Cbrysostom is 
therefore wholly in the wrong, about the nature of the tax paid by Jesus and Pe- 
ter; (verse 27, "give it for me and thee,") and the reason which he gives for the 
payment, (namely, that they were both first-born sons,) being disproved, his belief 
of Peter's seniority is shown to be based on an error, and therefore entitled to no 
credit whatever ; more particularly, when opposed to the older authority of Epipha- 
nius. 

Lardner, in support of the opinion that Peter was the oldest, quotes also Cassian 
and Bede ; but it is most manifest that a bare assertion of two writers, who lived, one 
of them 424, and the other 700 years after Christ, — an assertion unsupported by any 
proof whatever, cannot be received as evidence in the case. The most natural con- 
jecture of any one who was accounting for the eminence of Peter, would be that he 
was older than the brother of whom he takes precedence so uniformly; and it is no 
more than just to conclude, therefore, that the ground of this notion was but a mere 
guess. But in the case of Epiphanius, besides the respect due to the early authority, 
it is important to observe, that he could have no motive for inventing the notion of 
Andrew's seniority, since the uniform prominence of Peter would most naturally 
suggest the idea that he was the oldest. It is fair to conclude, then, that an opinion, 
so unlikety to be adopted without special proof, must have had the authority of uni- 
form early tradition; for Epiphanius mentions it as-if it were a universally admitted 
fact; nor does he seem to me to have invented the notion of Andrew T 's seniority, to 
account for his being first known to Jesus, though he mentions these two circum- 
stances in their natural connection. Yet Lampius, in his notes on John i. supposing 
that Epiphanius arranged the facts on the principle " post hoc, ergo, propter hoc," 
has rejected this Father's declaration of Andrew's seniority, as a mere invention, to 
account for this apostle's prior acquaintance with Jesus. The reader may judge be- 
tween them. 

Lardner, moreover, informs us that Jerome maintains the opinion, that Peter was 
preferred before the other apostles on account of his age. But a reference to the 
original passage, shows that the comparison was only between Peter and John, and 
not between Peter and the rest of the apostles. Speaking of Peter as the constituted 
head of the church, he says that was done to avoid dissensions, (ut schismatis tollatur 
occasio.) The question might then arise, why was not John chosen first, being so 
pure and free from connections that might interfere with apostolic duties 1 (Cur non 
Johannes electus est virgo? Aetati delatum est, quia Petrus senior erat; ne adhuc 
adolescens ac pene puer progressae aetatis hominibus praeferretur.) " It was out 
of regard to age, because Peter was older (than John ;) nor could one who was yet 
immature, and little more than a boy, be preferred to a man of mature age." The 
passage evidently does not toiich the question of Peter's being the oldest of all, nor 
does it contradict, in any way, the opinion that Andrew was older, as all which Je- 
rome says is, merely, that Peter was older than John, — an opinion unquestionably 
accordant with the general voice of all ancient Christian tradition. 

The character of Epiphanius, however, it must be acknowledged, is so low for 
judgment and accuracy, that his word is not of itself sufficient to establish any very 
doubtful fact, as certain. Yet in this case, there is no temptation to pervert facts on 
a point of so little interest or importance, and one on which no prejudice could govern 
his decision. We may therefore give him, in this matter, about all the credit due to 
his antiquity. Still, there is much wore satisfactory proof of Peter's not being the 
oldest apostle, founded on various circumstances of apostolic history, which will be 
referred to in their places. 

Nor can priority of calling be offered as the reason of this ap- 
parent superiority ; for the minute record given by the evangelist 
John, makes it undeniable that Andrew became acquainted with 
Jesus before Peter, and that the eminent disciple was afterwards 
first made known to Jesus, by means of his less highly honored 
brother. 

The only reasonable supposition left, then, is, that there was 
an intentional preference of Simon Cephas, on the score of emi- 



34 SIMON CEPHAS. 

nence for genius, zeal, knowledge, prudence, or some other quality 
which fitted him for taking the lead of the chief ministers of the 
Messiah. The word "first" which accompanies his name in 
Matthew's list, certainly appears, in the view of some, to have 
some force above the mere tautological expression of a fact so very 
self-evident from the collocation, as that he was first on the list. 
The Bible shows not an instance of a list begun in that way, with 
this emphatic word so vainly and unmeaningly applied. The 
analogies of expression in all languages, ancient and modern, 
would be very apt to lead a common reader to think that the nu- 
meral adjective thus prefixed, was meant to give the idea that 
Simon Peter was put first for some better reason than mere acci- 
dent. Any person, in giving a list of twelve eminent men, all 
devoted to a common pursuit, and laboring in one great cause, 
whose progress he was attempting to record, would, in arranging 
them, if he disregarded the circumstances of seniority, &c, very 
naturally give them place according to their importance in refer- 
ence to the great subject before him. If, as in the present case, 
three different persons should, in the course of such a work, make 
out such a list, an individual difference of opinion about a matter 
of mere personal preference, like this, might produce variations in 
the minor particulars ; but where all three united in giving to one 
and the same person, the first and most honorable place, the or- 
dinary presumption would unavoidably be, that the prior rank 
of the person thus distinguished, was considered, by them at least, 
at the time when they wrote, as decidedly and indisputably es- 
tablished. The determination of a point so trifling being without 
any influence on matters of faith and doctrine, each evangelist 
might, without detriment to the sanctity and authority of the re- 
cord which he bears, be left to follow his own private opinion 
of the most proper principle of arrangement to be followed in enu- 
merating the apostles. Thus, while it is noticeable that the 
whole twelve were disposed in six pairs by each of the evangelists, 
yet the order and succession of these is somewhat changed, by 
different circumstances directing the choice of each writer. Mat- 
thew modestly puts himself after Thomas, with whom he seems 
by all the gospel lists, to have some close connection ; but Mark 
and Luke combine to give Matthew the precedence, and invert 
the order in which, through unobtrusiveness, he had, as it would 
seem, robbed true merit of its due superiority. And yet these points 
of precedence were so little looked to, that in the first chapter 



SIMON CEPHAS. 35 

of Acts, Luke makes a new arrangement of these names, advancing" 
Thomas to the precedency, not only of Matthew, but of Bartholo- 
mew, who, in all other places where their names are given, is 
mentioned before him. So also Matthew prefers to mention the 
brothers together, and gives Andrew a place immediately after 
Peter, although, in so many places after, he speaks of Peter, James 
and John together, as most highly distinguished by Christ, and 
favored by opportunities of beholding him and his works, on oc- 
casions when other eyes were shut out. Mark, on the contrary, 
gives these names with more strict reference to distinction of rank, 
and mentions the favored trio together, first of all, making the 
affinities of birth of less consequence than the share of favor en- 
joyed by each with the Messiah. Luke, in his gospel, follows 
Matthew's arrangement of the brothers, but in the first chapter of 
Acts puts the three great apostles first, separating Andrew from 
his brother, and mentioning him after the sons of Zebedee. These 
changes of arrangement, while they show of how little vital im- 
portance the order of names was considered, yet, by the uniform 
preservation of Peter in the first rank, prove that the exalted pre- 
eminence of Peter was so universally known and acknowledged, 
that whatever difference of opinion writers might entertain res- 
pecting more obscure persons, — as to him, no inversion of order 
could be permitted. 

How far Peter was by this pre-eminence endowed with any 
supremacy over the other apostles, may of course be best shown 
in those places of his history, which appear either to maintain or 
question this position. 

That Simon Cephas, or Peter, then, was the first or chief of the 
apostles, appears from the uniform precedence with which his 
name is honored on all occasions in the Scriptures, where the 
order in which names are mentioned could be made to depend on 
rank, — by the universal testimony of the Fathers, and by the 
general impressions entertained on this point throughout the Chris- 
tian world, in all ages since his time. 

HIS BIRTH. 

From two separate passages in the gospels, we learn that the 
name of the father of Simon Peter was Jonah, but beyond this 
we have no direct information as to his family. From the terms 
in which Peter is frequently mentioned along with the other 
apostles, we infer, however, that he must have been from the low- 
est order of society, which also appears from the business to which 



36 SIMON CEPHAS. 

he devoted his life, before he received the summons that sent him. 
forth to the world, on a far higher errand. Of such a humble 
family, he was born at Bethsaida, in Galilee, on or near the shore 
of the sea of Galilee, otherwise called lake Tiberias, or Gennesaret. 
Upon this lake he seems to have followed his laborious and dan- 
gerous livelihood, which very probably, in accordance with the 
hereditary succession of trades, common among the Jews, was the 
occupation of his father and ancestors before him. Of the time 
of his birth no certain information con be had, as those who were 
able to inform us, were not disposed to set so high a value upon 
ages and dates, as the writers and readers of later times. The 
most reasonable conjecture as to his age, is 7 that he was about the 
same age with Jesus Christ ; which rests on the circumstances 
of his being married at the period when he was first called by 
Christ, — his being made the object of such high confidence and 
honor by his Master, and the eminent standing which he seems 
to have maintained, from the first, among the apostles. Still there 
is nothing in all these circumstances, that is irreconcilable with 
the supposition that he was younger than Christ : and if any 
reader prefers to suppose the period of his birth so much later, 
there is no important point in his history or character that will 
be affected by such a change of dates, 

Bethsaida. — The name of this place occurs in several passages of gospel history, 
as connected with the scenes of the life of Jesus. (Matt. xi. 21 \ Mark vi. 45. vm. 22 
— 26; Luke ix. 10, x. 13; John i. 45, xii. 21.) The name likewise occurs in the wri- 
tings of Josephus, who describes Bethsaida, and mentions some circumstances of its 
history. The common impression among the New Testament commentators has 
been, that the Bethsaida which is so often mentioned in the gospels, was on the west- 
ern shore of lake Gennesaret, near the other cities which were the scenes of important 
events in the life of Jesus. Yet Josephus distinctly implies thai Bethsaida was situ- 
ated on the eastern shore of the lake, as he says that it was built by Philip the tetrarch. 
in Lower Gaulonitis, (Jewish war, book ii. chapter 9, section 1,) which was on the 
eastern side of the Jordan and the lake, though not in Peraea, as Light foot rather 
hastily assumes; for Peraea, though by its derivation (from ntpar, peran, "beyond,") 
meaning simply "what was beyond "the river, yet was, in the geography of Pales- 
tine, applied to only that, portion of the country east of Jordan, which extends from 
Moab on the south, northward, to Pella, on "the Jabbok. (Josephus, Jewish war, 
book lii. chap. 3, sect. 3.) Another point in which the account given by Josephus 
differs from that in the gospels, is, that while Josephus places Bethsaida in Gaulonitis, 
John (xii. 21,) speaks of it distinctly as a city of Galilee, and Peter, as well as others 
born in Bethsaida, is called a Galilean. These two apparent disagreements have led 
many eminent writers to conclude that there were on and near the lake, two wholly 
different places bearing the name of Bethsaida. Schleusner, Bretschneider, Fischer, 
Pococke, Reland, Michaelis, Kuinoel, Rosenmueller, and others, have maintained 
this opinion with many arguments But Lightfoot, Cave, Calmet, Baillet, Macknight, 
Wells, and others, have decided that these differences can be perfectly reconciled, 
and all the circumstances related in the gospels, made to agree with Josephus's ac- 
count of the situation of Bethsaida 

The first passage in which Josephus mi ation i thi in his Jewish Antiqui- 

ties, book xtriii. ehap.2, seel 1 And he, (Philip) having granted to the village 



SIMON CEPHAS, 37 

of Bethsaida, near the lake of Gennesaret, the rank of a city, by increasing its popula- 
tion, and giving it importance in other ways, called it by the name of Jnlia, the 
daughter of Caesar," (Augustus.) In his History of the Jewish War, book ii. chap. 9, 
sect. 1, he also alludes to it in a similar connection. Speaking, as in the former pas- 
sage, of the cities built by Herod and Philip in their tetrarchies, he says, " The latter 
built Julias, in Lower Gaulanitis." In the same history, book iii. chap. 9, sect. 7, de- 
scribing the course of the Jordan, he alludes to this city. " Passing on (from lake 
Semechonitis,) one hundred and twenty furlongs farther, to the city Julias, it flows 
through the middle of lake Gennesar." In this passage I translate the preposition 
jsera {meta,) by the English u to" though Hudson expresses it in Latin by "post," and 
Macknight by the English "behind." Lightfoot very freely renders it u ante" but 
with all these great authorities against me, I have the consolation of finding my 
translation supported by the antique English version of the quaint Thomas Lodge, 
who distinctly expresses the preposition in this passage by "unto" This translation 
of the word is in strict accordance with the rule that this Greek preposition, when it 
comes before the accusative after a verb of motion, has the force of " to," or " against." 
(See Jones's Lexicon, sub voc. jxera; also Hederici Lex.) But in reference to places, 
it never has the meaning of " behind" given to it by Macknight, nor of u posi" in 
Latin, as in Hudson's translation, still less of " ante," as Lightfoot very queerly ex- 
presses it. The passage, then, simply means that the Jordan, after passing out of lake 
Semechonitis, flows one hundred and twenty furlongs to the city of Julias or Beth- 
saida, (not behind it, nor before it,) and there enters lake Gennesar, the whole express- 
ing as clearly as may be, that Julias stood on the river just where it widens into the 
lake. That Julias stood on the Jordan, and not on the lake, though near it, is 
made further manifest, by a remark made by Josephus, in his memoirs of his own 
life. He, when holding a military command in the region around the lake, during 
ihe war against the Romans, on one occasion, sent against the •enemy a detachment 
of soldiers, who "encamped near the river Jordan, about a furlong from Julias." 
(Life of Josephus, sect. 72.) 

It should be remarked, moreover, that, at the same time when Philip enlarged 
Bethsaida, in this manner, and gave it the name of Julia, the daughter of Augustus 
Caesar, his brother Herod Antipas, tetrarch of Galilee and Peraea, with a similar 
ambition to exalt his own glory, and secure the favor of the imperial family, rebuilt 
a city in his dominions, named Betharamphtha, to which he gave the name Julms 
also; but in honor, not of the daughter, but of the wife of Augustus, who bore the fa- 
mily name, Julia, which passed from her to her daughter. This multiplication of 
namesake towns, has only created new confusion for us; for the learned Lightfoot, in 
his Chorographic century on Matthew, has unfortunately taken this for the Julias 
which stood on the Jordan, at its entrance into the lake, and accordingly applies to 
Julias-Betharamphtha, the last two quotations from Josephus, given above, which I 
have applied to Julias-Bethsaida. But it would seem as if this most profound Bibli- 
cal scholar was certainly in the wrong here; since Julias-Betharamphtha must have 
been built by Herod Antipas within his own dominions, that is, in Galilee proper, or 
Peraea proper, as already bounded ; and Josephus expressly says that this Julias was 
in Peraea; yet Lightfoot, in his rude little wood-cut map, (Horae Heb. et Talm. in 
Mar., Decas Chorog. cap. v.) has put this in Gaulanitis, far north of its true place, at 
the influx of Ihe Jordan into the lake, ("ad ipsissimum influxum Jordanis in lacum 
Gennesariticum,") and Julias-Bethsaida, also in Gaulanitis, some miles lower down, 
at the south-east corner of the lake, a position adopted by no other writer that I know 
of. This peculiarity in Lightfoot's views, I have thus stated at length, that those who 
may refer to Ms Horae for more light, might not suppose a confusion in my statement, 
which does not exist ; for since the Julias-Betharamphtha of Herod could not have 
been in Gaulanitis, but in Peraea, the Julias at the influx of the Jordan into the lake, 
must have been the Bethsaida embellished by Philip, tetrarch of Iturea and Tracho- 
nitis, (Luke iii, 1,) which included Gaulanitis, Batanea, &c. east of Jordan and the 
lake, and north of Peraea proper. The substance of Josephus's information on this 
point, is, therefore, that Bethsaida stood on the eastern side of the Jordan, just where 
it enters lake Gennesar, or Gennesaret, (otherwise called lake Tiberias and the sea 
of Galilee,) — that it stood in the province of Gaulanitis, within the dominions of Philip, 
son of Herod the Great, and tetrarch of all that portion of Palestine which lies north 
of Peraea, on the east of Jordan, and the lake, as well as of the region north of Gali- 
lee, his tetrarchy forming a sort of crescent,— that this prince, having enlarged and 
embellished Bethsaida, raised it from a village to the rank of a city, by the name 



38 SIMON CEPHAS. 

of Julias, in honor of Julia, daughter of Augustus Caesar. This was done during 
the reign of Augustus, (Josephus, in Jew. Ant. book i. chap. 2, sect. 1,) and of course 
long before Jesus Christ began his labors, though after his birth, because it was after 
the death of Herod the Great. 

The question now is, whether the Bethsaida mentioned by the evangelists is by 
them so described as to be in any way inconsistent with the account given by Jose- 
phus, of the place to which he gives that name. The first difficulty which has pre- 
sented itself to the critical commentators, on this point, is the fact, that the Bethsaida 
of the gospels is declared in them to have been a city of Galilee, (John xii. 21,) and 
those who were born and brought up in it are called Galileans, (Mark xiv. 70, Luke 
xxii. 59, Acts i."7, ii. 7.) Yet Josephus expressly tells us, that Bethsaida was in Gau- 
lanitis, which was not in Galilee, as he bounds it, but was beyond its eastern boun- 
dary, on the eastern side of the river and lake. (Jewish war, book xviii. chap. 2, sect. 
1.) This is therefore considered by many, as a diversity between the two accounts, 
which must make it impossible to apply them both to the same place. But there is 
no necessity for such a conclusion. The different application of the term Galilee, in 
the two books, must be noticed, in order to avoid confusion. Josephus is very exact 
in the use of names of places and regions, defining geographical positions and bound- 
aries with a particularity truly admirable Thus, in mentioning the political divis- 
ions of Palestine, he gives the precise limits of each, and uses their names, not in the 
loose, popular way r but only in his own accurate sense. But the gospel writers are 
characterized by no such minute particularity, in the use of names, which they gene- 
rally apply in the popular, rather than the exact sense. Thus, in this case, they use 
the term Galilee, in what seems to have been its common meaning in Judea, as a 
name for all the region north of Samaria and Peraea, on both sides of the Jordan, 
including, of course, Gaulanitis and all the dominions of Philip. The difference be- 
tween them and Josephus, on this point, is very satisfactorily shown in another pas- 
sage. In Acts v. 37. Gamaliel, spea king of several persons who had at different times 
disturbed the peace of the nation, mentions one Judas, the Galilean, as a famous rebel. 
Now this same person is very particularly described by Josephus, (Jew. Ant. book 
xv. chap. 1, sect. 1,) in such a manner that there can be no doubt of his identity with 
the previous description. Yet Josephus calls him distinctly, Judas the Gaulanite, and 
not Judas the Galilean ; showing him to have been from the city of Gamala, in the 
country east of Jordan and the lake ; so that the conclusion is unavoidable, that the 
term Galilee is used in a much wider sense in the New Testament than in Josephus,. 
being applied indiscriminately to the region on both sides of the lake. The people 
of southern Palestine called the whole northern section Galilee, and all its inhabi- 
tants, Galileans, without attending to the nicer political and geographical distinctions; 
just as the inhabitants of the southern section of the United States, high and low, call 
every stranger a Yankee, who is from any part of the country north of Mason and 
Dixon's line, though well-informed people perfectly well know, that the classic and 
not despicable name of Yankee belongs fairly and truly to the ingenious sons of New 
England alone, who have made their long-established sectional title so synonymous 
with acuteness and energy, that whenever an enterprising northerner pushes his way 
southward, he shares in the honors of this gentile appellative. Just in the same 
vague and careless way, did the Jews apply the name Galilean to all the energetic, 
active northerners, who made themselves known in Jerusalem, either by their pres- 
ence or their fame; and thus both Judas of Gaulanitis, and those apostles who were 
from the eastern side of the river, were called Galileans, as well as those on the west,, 
in Galilee proper. Besides, in the case of Bethsaida, which was immediately on the 
line between Galilee and Gaulanitis, it was still more natural to refer it to the larger 
section on the west, with many of whose cities it was closely connected. 

Besides, that the Jews considered Galilee as extending beyond Jordan, is most un- 
deniably clear from Isaiah ix. 1, where the prophet plainly speaks of " Galilee of the 
nations, as being by the side of the sea, beyond Jordan." This was the ancient Jew- 
ish idea of the country designated by this name, and the idea of limiting it to the west 
of Jordan, was a mere late term introduced by the Romans, and apparently never 
used by the Jews of the gospel times, except when speaking of the political divisions 
of Palestine. The name Gaulanitis, which is the proper term for the province in 
which Bethsaida was, never occurs in the bible. Kuinoel, Rosenmueller, &c. give 
a different view, however, of "beyond Jordan," on Matt. iv. 15. 

But a still more important difficulty has been suggested, in reference to the identity 
of the plase described by Josephus, with that mentioned in the gospels. This is, the 



SIMON CEPHAS, 39 

fact that in the gospels it is spoken of in such a connection, as would seem to require 
its location on the western side. A common, but very idle argument, in favor of this 
supposition, is, that Bethsaida is mentioned frequently along with Capernaum and 
other cities of Galilee proper, in such immediate connection as to make it probable 
that it was on the same side of the river and lake with them. But places separated 
merely by a river, or at most by a narrow lake, whose greatest breadth was only five 
miles, could not be considered distant from each other, and would very naturally be 
spoken of as near neighbors. The most weighty argument, however, rests on a 
passage in Mark vi. 45, where it is said that Jesus constrained his disciples to " get 
into a vessel, to go before him to the other side unto Bethsaida," after the five thou- 
sand had been fed. Now the parallel passage in John vi. 17, says that they, following 
this direction, " went over the sea towards Capernaum," and that when they reached 
the shore, "they came into the land of Gennesaret," both which are understood to be 
on the western side. But on the other hand, we are distinctly told, by Luke, (ix. 10,) 
that the five thousand were fed in "a desert place, belonging to (or near) the city 
which is called Bethsaida," On connecting these two passages, therefore, (in John 
and Mark,) according to the ■common version, the disciples sailed from Bethsaida on 
one side, to Bethsaida on the other, a construction which has been actually adopted by 
those who maintain the existence of two cities of the same name on different sides 
of the lake. But what common reader is willing to believe, that in this passage Luke 
refers to a place totally different from the one meant in all other passages where the 
name occurs, and more particularly in the very next chapter, (x. 13,) where he speaks 
of the Bethsaida which had been frequented before by Jesus, without a word of ex- 
planation to show that it was a different place? But in the expression, " to go before 
him to the other side, to Bethsaida," the word " to " may be shown, by a reference to 
the Greek, to convey an erroneous idea of the situation of the places. The preposition 
irpos, (pros,) may have, not merely the sense of to, with the idea of motion towards a 
place, but in some passages even of Mark's gospel, may be most justly translated 
"near" or "before" -{as in ii. 2, "not even about "or before" the door, and in xi. 4, 
" tied by" or before " the door.") This is the meaning which seems to be justified by 
the collocation here, and the meaning in which I am happy to find myself supported 
by the acute and accurate Wahl, in his Clavis Nov. Test, under npos, which he trans- 
lates in this passage by the Latin juxta, prope ad; and the German bey, that is, "by," 
"near to," a meaning supported by the passage in Herodotus, to which he refers, as 
well as by those from Mark himself, which are given above, from Schleusner's refer- 
ences under this word, (definition 7.) Scott, in order to reconcile the difficulties 
which he saw in the common version, has, in his marginal references, suggested the 
meaning of "over against," a rendering, which undoubtedly expresses correctly the 
relations of objects in this place, and one, perhaps, not wholly inconsistent with 
Schleusner's 7th definition, which is in Latin -ante, or "before;" since what was before 
Bethsaida, as one looked from that place across the river, was certainly opposite to 
that city. I had thought of this meaning as a desirable one in this passage, but had 
rejected it, before I saw it in Scott, for the reason, that I could not find this exact 
.meaning in any lexicon, nor Was there any other passage in Greek, in which this 
eould be distinctly recognized as the proper one. The propriety of the term, how- 
ever, is also noticed, in the note on this passage in the great French Bible, with com- 
mentaries, harmonies, &c. (Sainte Bible en Latin et Francois avec des notes, &c. 
Vol. xiv. p. 263, note,) where it is expressed by "1 'autre cote du lac, vis-a-vis Beth- 
saide: c. a. d. sur le bord occidental oppose a la ville Bethsaide que etait sur le bord 
oriental," a meaning undoubtedly geographically correct, but not grammatically ex- 
act, and I therefore prefer to take "near" as the sense which both reconciles the 
geographical difficulties, and accords with the established principles of lexicography. 
After all, the sense " to" is not needed in this passage, to direct the action of the 
verb of motion (-xpoayciv, proagein, " go before,") to its proper object, since that is pre- 
viously done by the former preposition and substantive, u<; to rtpav, (eis to peran.) 
That is, when we read "Jesus constrained his disciples to go before him," and the 
question arises in regard to the object towards which the action is directed, "Whither 
did he constrain them to go before him'?" the answer is in the words immediately 
succeeding, ag to ntpav, " to the other side," and in these words the action is complete ; 
but the mere general direction, "to the other side," was too vague of itself, and re- 
quired some limitation to avoid error; for the place to which they commonly directed 
their course westward, over the lake, was Capernaum, the home'of Jesus, and thither 
they might on this occasion be naturally expected to go, as we should have concluded 



40 SftfON CEPHAS 

they did, if nothing farther was said; therefore, to fix the point of their destination, 
we are told, in answer to the query, " To what part of the western shore were they 
directed to go'?" " To that part which was near or apposite to Bethsaida." The ob- 
jection which may arise, that a place on the western side could not be very near to 
Bethsaida on the east, is answered by the fact that this city was separated from the 
western shore, not by the whole breadth of the lake, but simply by the little stream 
of Jordan, here not more than twenty yards wide ; so that a place on the opposite side 
might still be very near the city. And this is what shows the topographical justness 
of the term, " over against" given by Scott, and the French commentator, since a 
place not directly across or opposite, but down the western shore, in a south-westerly 
direction, as Capernaum was, would not be very near Bethsaida, nor much less than 
five miles off. Thus is shown a beautiful mutual illustration of the literal and the 
liberal translations of the word. 

Macknight ably answers another argument, which has been offered to defend the 
location of Bethsaida on the western shore, founded on John vi. 23. "There came 
other boats from Tiberias, nigh unto the place where they did eat bread," as if Tibe- 
rias had been near the desert of Bethsaida, and consequently near Bethsaida itself. 
" But," as Macknight remarks, t; the original, rightly pointed," imports only, that boats 
from Tiberias came into some creek or bay, nigh unto the place where they did eat 
bread." Besides, it should be remembered that the object of those who came in the 
boats, was to find Jesus, whom they expected to find "nigh the place where they ate 
bread," as the context shows; so that these words refer to their destination, and not 
to the place from which they came. Tiberias was down the lake, at the south-M T est- 
era corner of it, and I know of no geographer who has put Bethsaida more than half 
way down, even on the western shore. The difference, therefore, between the dis- 
tance to Bethsaida on the west and to Bethsaida on the east, could not be at most 
above a mile or two, a matter not to be appreciated in a voyage of sixteen miles, from 
Tiberias, which cannot be said to be near Bethsaida, in any position of the latter that 
has ever been thought of. This objection, of course, is not offered at all, by those 
who suppose two Bethsaidas mentioned in the gospels, and grant that the passage in 
Luke ix. 10, refers to the eastern one, where they suppose the place of eating bread 
to have been ; but others, who have imagined only one Bethsaida, and that on the 
western side, have proposed this argument; and to such the reply is directed. 

For all these reasons, topographical, historical and grammatical, the conclusion 
of the whole matter is — that there was but one Bethsaida, the same place being meant 
by that name in all passages in the gospels and in Josephus — that this place stood 
within the verge of Lower Gaulanitis, on the bank of the Jordan, just where it passes 
into the lake — that it was in the dominions of Philip the tetrarch, at the time when it 
is mentioned in the gospels, and afterwards was included in the kingdom of Agrippa 
— that its original Hebrew name, (from JY3 beth, " house" and my, tsedah, "hunting, 
or fishing " "a house of fishing," no doubt so called from the common pursuit of its 
inhabitants,) was changed by Philip into Julias, by which name it was known to 
Greeks and Romans. 

By this view, we avoid the undesirable notion, that there are two totally different 
places mentioned in two succeeding chapters of the same gospel, without a word 
of explanation to inform us of the difference, as is usual in cases of local synonyms 
in the New Testament; and that Josephus describes a place of this name, without the 
slightest hint of the remarkable fact, that there was another place of the same name, 
not half a mile off, directly across the Jordan, in full view of it. 

The discussion of the point has been necessarily protracted to a somewhat tedious 
length; but if fewer words would have expressed the truth and the reasons for it, it 
should have been briefer ; and probably there is no reader who has endeavored to 
satisfy himself on the position of Bethsaida, in his own biblical studies, that will not 
feel some gratitude for what light this note may give, on a point where all common aids 
and authorities are in such monstrous confusion. 

For the various opinions and statements on this difficult point, see Schleusner's, 
Bretschneider's and Wahl's Lexicons, Lightfoot's Chorographic century and decade, 
Wetstein's New Testament commentary on Matt. iv. 12, Kuinoel, Rosenmueller, 
Fritzsche, Macknight, &c. On the passages where the name occurs, also the French 
Commentary above quoted, — more especially in Vol. III. Remarques sur le carte 
geog. sect. 7, p. 357. Paulus's " commentar ueber das neue Testament," 2d edition, 
Vol. II. pp. 338— 342. Topographische Erlaeuterungen. 

Lake Genncsaret.— Thi3 body of water, bearing in the gospels the various names 



SIMON CEPHAS 41 

of " the sea of Tiberias," and " the sea of Galilee," as well as " the lake of Gennesa- 
ret," is formed like one or two other smaller ones north of it, by a widening of the 
Jordan, which flows in at the northern end, and passing through the middle, goes out 
at the southern end. On the western side, it was bounded by Galilee proper, and on 
the east was the lower division of that portion of Iturea, which was called Gaulan- 
itis by the Greeks and Romans, from the ancient city of Golan, (Deut. iv. 43 ; Josh, 
xx. 8, &c.) which stood within its limits. Pliny (book I. chap. 15,) well describes the 
situation and character of the lake. " Where the shape of the valley first allows it, 
the Jordan pours itself into a lake which is most commonly called Genesara, sixteen 
(Roman) miles long, and six broad. It is surrounded by pleasant towns ; on the eajst, 
it has Julias (Bethsaida) and Hippus ; on the south, Tarichea, by which name some 
call the lake also ; on the west, Tiberias with its warm springs." Josephus also gives 
a very clear and ample description. (Jewish War, book 3, chap. 9, sect. 7.) " Lake 
Gennesar takes its name from the country adjoining it. It is forty furlongs (about 
five or six miles) in width, and one hundred and forty (seventeen or eighteen miles) 
in length ; yet the water is sweet, and very desirable to drink ; for it has its fountain 
clear from swampy thickness, and is therefore quite pure, being bounded on all sides 
by a beach, and a sandy shore. It is moreover of a pleasant temperature to drink, being 
warmer than that of a river or a spring, on the one hand, but colder than that which 
stands always expanded over a lake. In coldness, indeed, it is not inferior to snow, 
when it has been exposed to the air all night, as is the custom with the people of that 
region. In it there are some kinds of fish, different both in appearance and taste from 
those in other places. The Jordan cuts through the middle of it." He then gives a de- 
scription of the course of the Jordan, ending with the remark quoted in the former note,, 
that it enters the lake at the city of Julias. He then describes, in glowing terms, the 
richness and beauty of the. country around, from which the lake takes its name, — a 
description too long to be given here ; but the studious reader may find it in section- 
eighth of the book and chapter above referred to. The Rabbinical writers too, often, 
refer to the pre-eminent beauty and fertility of this delightful region, as is shown in 
several passages quoted by Lightfoot in his Centuria Chorographica, cap. 79. The 
derivation of the name there given from the Rabbins, is D'HD ''U, ginne sarim, " the 
gardens of the princes." Thence the name genne-sar. They sajr it was within the' 
lands of the tribe of Naphtali ; it mast therefore have been on the western side of 
the lake, which appears also from the fact that it was near Tiberias, as we are told 
on the same authority. It is not mentioned in the Old Testament under this name,, 
but the Rabbins assure us that the place called Cinnereth, in Joshua xx. 35; Chin- 
neroth in xi. 2, is the same; and this lake is mentioned in xiii. 27, under the name of 
" the sea of Chinnereth," — " the sea of Chinneroth," in xii. 3, &c. 

The best description of the scenery, and present aspect of the lake, which I can find,, 
is the following from Conder's Modern Traveler, Vol. 1. (Palestine) a w r ork made 
up with great care from the observations of a great number of intelligent travelers. 

" The mountains on the east of Lake Tiberias, come close to its shore, and the 
country on that side has not a very agreeable aspect ; on the west, it has the plain of 
Tiberias, the high ground of the plain of Hutin, or Hottein, the plain of Gennesaret^ 
and the foot of those hills by which you ascend to the high mountain of Saphet. To the 
north and south it has a plain country, or valley. There is a current throughout the 
whole breadth of the lake, even to the shore ; and the passage of the Jordan through 
it, is discernible by the smoothness of the surface in that part. Various travelers 
have given a very different account of its general aspect. According to Captain 
Mangles, the land about it has no striking features, and the scenery is altogether de- 
void of character. "It appeared," he says, " to particular disadvantage to us, after 
those beautiful lakes we had seen in Switzerland ; but it becomes a very interesting- 
object, when you consider the frequent allusions to it in the gospel narrative." Dr. 
Clarke, on the contrary, speaks of the uncommon grandeur of this memorable 
scenery. " The lake of Gennesaret," he says, " is surrounded by objects well calcu- 
lated to highten the solemn impression," made by such recollections, and " affords 
one of the most striking prospects in the Holy Land. Speaking of it comparatively, 
it may be described as longer and finer than any of our Cumberland and Westmore- 
land lakes, although perhaps inferior to Loch Lomond. It does not possess the vast- 
ness of the Lake of Geneva, although it much resembles it in certain points of view. 
In picturesque beauty, it comes nearest to the Lake of Locarno, in Italy, although it 
is destitute of any thing similar to the islands by which that majestic piece of water 
is adorned. It is inferior in magnitude, and in the hight of its surrounding moun- 



42 SIMON CEPHAS. 

tains, to the Lake Asphaltites.' 1 Mr. Buckingham may perhaps be considered as 
having given the most accurate account, and one which reconciles, in some degree, 
the different statements above cited, when, speaking of the lake as seen from Tel 
Hoom, he says, "that its appearance is grand, but that the barren aspect of the moun- 
tains on each side, and the total absence of wood, give a cast of dulness to the pic- 
ture ; this is increased to melancholy, by the dead calm of its waters, and the silence 
which reigns throughout its whole extent, where not a boat or vessel of any kind is 
to be found." 

Among the pebbles on the shore, Dr. Clarke found pieces of a porous rock, resem- 
bling toad-stone, its cavities filled with zeolite. Native gold is said to have been 
found here formerly. " We noticed," he says, " an appearance of this kind ; but, on 
account of its trivial nature, neglected to pay proper attention to it. The water was 
as clear as the purest crystal; sweet, cool, and most refreshing. Swimming to a 
considerable distance from the shore, we found it so limpid that we could discern the 
bottom covered with shining pebbles. Among these stones was a beautiful, but very 
diminutive, kind of shell ; a nondescript species of Buccirmm, which we have called 
Buccinum Galilceum. We amused ourselves by diving for specimens ; and the very 
circumstance of discerning such small objects beneath the surface, may prove the 
high transparency of the water." The situation of the lake, lying as it were in a 
deep basin between the hills which enclose it on all sides, excepting only the narrow 
entrance and outlets of the Jordan, at either end, protects its waters from long-contin- 
ued tempests. Its surface is in general as smooth as that of the Dead Sea ; but the same 
local features render it occasionally subject to whirlwinds, squalls, and sudden gusts 
from the mountains, of short duration, especially when the strong current formed by 
the Jordan, is opposed by a wind of this description, from the S. E. ; sweeping from 
the mountains with the force of a hurricane, it may easily be conceived that a bois- 
terous sea must be instantly raised, which the small vessels of the country would be 
unable to resist. A storm of this description is plainly denoted by the language of 
the evangelist, in recounting one of our Lord's miracles. " There came down a storm 

of wind on the lake, and they were filled with water, and were in jeopardy Then 

he arose, and rebuked the wind and the raging of the water; and they ceased, and 
there was a calm." (Luke viii. 23, 24.) 

The question of Peter's being the oldest son of his father has been 
already alluded to, and decided by the most ancient authority, 
in favor of the opinion, that he was younger than Andrew. There 
surely is nothing unparalleled or remarkable in the fact, that the 
younger brother should so transcend the elder in ability and emi- 
nence ; since Scripture history furnishes us with similar instances 
in Jacob, Judah and Joseph, Moses, David, and many others 
throughout the history of the Jews, although that nation general- 
ly regarded the rights of primogeniture with high reverence and 
respect. 

HIS INTRODUCTION TO JESUS. 

The earliest passage in the life of Peter, of which any record 
can be found, is given in the first chapter of John's Gospel. In 
this, it appears that Peter and Andrew were at Bethabara, a place 
on the eastern bank of the Jordan, more than twenty miles south 
of their home at Bethsaida, and that they had probably left their 
business for a time, and gone thither, for the sake of hearing and 
seeing John the Baptist, who was then preaching at that place, 
and baptizing the penitent in the Jordan. This great forerunner 
of the Messiah, had already, by his strange habits of life, by his 



SIMON CEPHAS'. 43 

fiery eloquence, by his violent and fearless zeal in denouncing the 
spirit of the times, attracted the attention of the people, of all 
classes, in various and distant parts of Palestine ; and not merely 
of the vulgar and unenlightened portion of society, who are so 
much more susceptible to false impressions in such cases, but even 
of the well taught followers of the two great learned sects of the 
Jewish faith, whose members flocked to hear his bold and bitter 
condemnation of their precepts and practices. So widely had his 
fame spread, and so important were the results of his doctrine 
considered, that a deputation of priests and Levites was sent to 
him, from Jerusalem, (probably from the Sanhedrim, or grand 
civil and religious council,) to inquire into his character and pre- 
tensions. No doubt a particular interest was felt in this inquiry, 
from the fact that there was a general expectation abroad at that 
time, that the long-desired restorer of Israel was soon to appear ; 
or, as expressed by Luke, there were many " who waited for the 
consolation of Israel," and " who in Jerusalem looked for redemp- 
tion." Luke also expressly tells us, that the expectations of the 
multitude were strongly excited, and that all men mused in their 
hearts whether he were the Christ or not. In the midst of this 
general notion, so flattering, and so tempting to an ambitious man, 
John vindicates his honesty and sincerity, by distinctly declaring 
to the multitude, as well as to the deputation, that he was not the 
Christ, and claimed for himself only the comparatively humble 
name and honors of the preparer of the way for the true king of 
Israel. This distinct disavowal, accompanied by the solemn de- 
claration, that the true Messiah stood at that moment among them, 
though unknown in his real character, must have aggravated 
public curiosity to the highest pitch, and caused the people to 
await, with the most intense anxiety, the nomination of this mys- 
terious king, which John was expected to make. Need we 
wonder, then, at the alacrity and determination with which the 
two disciples of John, who heard this announcement, followed 
the footsteps of Jesus, with the object of finding the dwelling 
place of the Messiah, or at the deep reverence with which they 
accosted him, giving him at once the highest term of honor which 
a Jew could confer on the wise and good, — " Rabbi," or master ? 
Nor is it surprising that Andrew, after the first day's conversation 
with Jesus, should instantly seek out his beloved and zealous 
brother, and tell him the joyful and exciting news, that they had 
found the Messiah, The mention of this fact was enough for 



44 SIMON CEPHAS, 

Simon, and he suffered himself to be brought at r>nce to Jesus, 
The salutation with which the Redeemer greeted the man who 
was to be the leader of his consecrated host, was strikingly pro- 
phetical and full of meaning. His first words were the annun- 
ciation of his individual and family name, (no miracle, but an allu- 
sion to the hidden meaning of his name,) and the application of a 
new one, by which he was afterwards to be distinguished from the 
many who bore his common name. All these names have a deeply 
curious and interesting meaning. Translating them all from 
their original Aramaic forms, the salutation will be, " Thou art 
a hearer, the son of divine grace—thou shalt be called a rockT 
The first of these names {hearer) was a common title in use 
among the Jews, to distinguish those who had just offered them- 
selves to the learned, as desiring wisdom in the law ; and the 
second was applied to those who, having past the first probation- 
ary stage of instruction, were ranked as the approved and im- 
proving disciples of the law, under the hopeful title of the " sons 
of divine grace." The third, which became afterwards the dis- 
tinctive individual name of this apostle, was given, no doubt, in 
reference to the peculiar excellences of his natural genius, which 
seems to be thereby characterized as firm, unimpressible by diffi- 
culty, and affording fit materials for the foundation of a mighty 
and lasting superstructure. 

The name Simon, y\iw was a common abridgment of Simeon, Jlj;D5y which means 
a hearer, and was a term applied technically as here mentioned. (For proofs and 
illustrations, see Poole's Synopsis and Lightfoot.) The technical meaning of the 
name Jonah, given in the text, is that given by Grotius and Drusius, but Lightfoot 
rejects this interpretation, because the name Jonah is not fairly derived from KjnV 
(which is the name corresponding to John,) but is the same with that of the old 
prophet so named, and he is probably right in therefore rejecting this whimsical ety- 
mology and definition. 

With this important event of the introduction of Simon to 
Jesus, and the application of his new and characteristic name, 
the life of Peter, as a follower of Christ, may be fairly said to 
have begun ; and from this arises a simple division of the sub- 
ject, into the two great natural portions of his life ; first, in his 
state of pupilage and instruction under the prayerful, personal 
care of his devoted Master, during his earthly stay ; and second, 
of his labors in the cause of his murdered and risen Lord, as his 
preacher and successor. These two portions of his life may be 
properly denominated his discipleship and his apostleship ; or 
perhaps still better, Peter the learner, and Peter the teacher. 



45 



I. PETER'S DISCIPLESHIP , 

OR, 

PETER THE LEARNER AND FOLLOWER. 

After his first interview with Christ, Peter seems to have re- 
turned to his usual business, toiling for his support, without any 
idea whatever of the manner in which his destiny was connected 
with the wonderful being to whom he had been thus introduced. 
We may justly suppose, indeed, that being convinced by the tes- 
timony of John, his first religious teacher and baptizer, and by 
personal conversation with Jesus, of his being the Messiah, that 
he afterwards often came to him, (as his home was near the Sa- 
vior's,) and heard him, and saw some of the miracles done by 
him. " We may take it for granted," as Lardner does, " that 
they were present at the miracle at Cana of Galilee, it being ex- 
pressly said that Jesus and his disciples were invited to the mar- 
riage solemnity in that place, as described in the second chapter 
of John's gospel. It is also said in the same chapter, l this be- 
ginning of miracles did Jesus in Cana of Galilee, and manifested 
forth his glory ; and his disciples believed on him ;' that is, were 
confirmed in the persuasion that he was the Messiah." And 
among the number of the disciples of Jesus, Simon and his 
brother were evidently numbered, from the time when they re- 
ceived their first introduction to him, and were admitted to the 
honors of an intimate acquaintance, The formal manner in 
which Jesus saluted Simon, seems to imply his adoption, or 
nomination at least, as a disciple, by referring to the remarkable 
coincidence of meaning between his name and the character of 
a hopeful learner in the school of divine knowledge. Still the 
two brothers had plainly received no appointment which produ- 
ced any essential change in their general habits and plans of life, 
for they still followed their previous calling, quietly and unpre- 
tendingly, without seeming to suppose, that the new honors at- 
tained by them had in any way exempted them from the neces- 
sity of earning their daily bread by the sweat- of their brow. 
To this they devoted themselves, laboring along the same sea of 
Galilee, whose waters and shores were the witnesses of so many 
remarkable scenes of the life of Christ. Yet their business was 
not of such a character as to prevent their enjoying occasional in- 

7 



46 peter's discifleship. 

terviews with their divine master, wliose residence by the lake, 
and walks along its shores, must have afforded frequent opportu- 
nities for cultivating or renewing an acquaintance with those en- 
gaged on its waters. There is nothing in the gospel story incon- 
sistent with the belief, that Jesus met his disciples, who were thus 
occupied, on more occasions than one ; and had it been the Bible 
plan to record all the most interesting details of his earthly 
life, many instructive accounts might, no doubt, have been given 
of the interviews enjoyed by him and his destined messengers of 
grace to the world. But the multiplication of such narratives, 
however interesting the idea of them may now seem, would have 
added no essential doctrine to our knowledge, even if they had 
been so multiplied as that, in the paradoxical language of John, 
the whole world could not contain them ; and the necessary re- 
sult of such an increased number of records, would have been a 
diminished valuation of each. As it is, the scripture historical 
canon secures our high regard and diligent attention, and its 
careful examination, by the very circumstance of its brevity, and 
the wide chasms of the narrative ; — like the mysterious volumes 
of the Cumaean Sybil, the value of the few is no less than that 
of the many, the price of each increasing in proportion as the 
number of the whole diminishes. Thus in regard to this inter- 
esting interval of Peter's life, we are left to the indulgence of rea- 
sonable conjecture, such as has been here mentioned. 

The next direct account given in the Bible, of any event im- 
mediately concerning' him, is found in all the first three gospels. 
It is thought by some, that his father Jonah was now dead ; for 
there is no mention of him, as of Zebedee, when his two sons 
were called. This however is only a mere conjecture, and has 
no more certainty than that he had found it convenient to make 
his home elsewhere, or was now so old as to be prevented from 
sharing in this laborious and perilous occupation, or that he had 
always obtained his livelihood in some other way ; though the 
last supposition is much less accordant with the well-known he- 
reditary succession of trades, which was sanctioned by almost 
universal custom throughout their nation. However, it appears 
that if still alive, their connection with him was not such as to 
hinder them a moment in renouncing at once all their former en- 
gagements and responsibilities, at the summons of Christ. Jesus 
was at this time residing at Capernaum, which is said by Matthew 
to be by the sea-coast ; , better translated " shore of the lake ;" for 



PETER ? S DISCt'PLESHIP. 4? 

it is not on the coast of the Mediterranean, as our modern use of 
these terms would lead us to suppose, but on the shore of the small 
inland lake Tiberias, or sea of Galilee, as it was called by the 
Jews, who, with their limited notions of geography, did not draw 
the nice distinctions between large and small bodies of water, 
which the more extended knowledge of some other nations of an- 
tiquity taught them to make. Capernaum was but a few miles 
from Bethsaida, on the other side of the lake, and its nearness 
would often bring Jesus in his walks, by the places where these 
fishermen were occupied, in whichever of the two places they at 
that time resided. On one of these walks he seems to have given 
the final summons, which called the first four of the twelve from 
their humble labors to the high commission of converting the world. 

Capernaum. — Though no one has ever supposed that there were two places bear- 
ing this name, yet about its locality, as about many other points of sacred topo- 
graphy, we find that " doctors disagree," though in this case without any good reason ; 
for the scriptural accounts, though so seldom minute on the situations of places, here 
give us all the particulars of its position, as fully as is desirable or possible. Mat- 
thew, (iv. 13,) tells us, that Capernaum was upon " the shore of the lake, on the boun- 
daries of Zebulon and Naphtali. A reference to the history of the division of ter- 
ritory among these tribes, (Joshua xix.) shows that their possessions did not reach the 
other side of the water, but were bounded on the east by Jordan and the lake, as is 
fully represented in all the maps of Palestine. Thus, it is made manifest, that Ca- 
pernaum must have stood on the western shore of the lake, where the lands of 
Zebulon and Naphtali bordered on each other. Though this boundary line cannot 
be very accurately determined, we can still obtain such an approximation, as will 
enable us to fix the position of Capernaum on the northern end of the western side 
of the lake, where most of the maps agree in placing it; yet some have very strangefy 
put it on the eastern side. The maps in the French bible, before quoted, have set it 
down at the mouth of the Jordan, in the exact place where Josephus has so particu- 
larly described Bethsaida as placed. Lightfoot has placed it on the west, but near 
the southern end ; and all the common maps differ considerably as to its precise situ- 
ation, of which indeed we can only give a vague conjecture, except that it must have 
been near the northern end. Conder (Modern Traveler, Palestine,) gives the fol- 
lowing account of modern researches after its site, among the ruins of various cities 
near the lake. 

u With regard toChorazin, Pococke says, that he could find nothing like the name, 
except at a village called Gerasi, which is among the hills west of the village called 
Telhoue, in the plain of Gennesaret. Dr. Richardson, in passing through this plain, 
inquired of the natives whether they knew such a place as Capernaum'? They im- 
mediately rejoined, " Cavernahum wa Chorasi, they are quite near, but in ruins." 
This evidence sufficiently fixes the proximity of Chorazin to Capernaum, in opposi- 
tion to the opinion that it was on the east side of the lake ; and it is probable that the 
Gerasi of Pococke is the same place, the orthography only being varied, as Dr. Rich- 
ardson's Chorasi." 

HIS CALL. 

In giving the minute details, we find that Luke has varied 
widely from Matthew and Mark, in many particulars. Taking 
the accounts found in each gospel separately, we make out the 
following three distinct stories. 

1. Matthew, in his fourth chapter, says that Jesus, after leav- 
ing Nazareth, came and dwelt at Capernaum, where he began the 



48 PETEitS DISCI FLESH IP 

great work for which he came into the world, — preaching repent - 
ance and making known the near approach of the reign of heaven 
on earth. In pursuance of this great object, it would seem that 
he went forth from the city which he made his home, and walked 
by the sea of Galilee, not for the sake of merely refreshing his 
body with the fresh air of that broad water, when languid with 
the confinement and closeness of the town, but with the higher 
object of forwarding his vast enterprise. On this walk he saw 
two brothers, Simon and Andrew, casting their net, or rather 
seine, into the sea ; for they were fishermen by trade, and not 
merely occupied in this as an occasional employment, by way of 
diversion in the intervals of higher business. Jesus directly ad- 
dressed them in a tone of unqualified command, " Follow me, 
and I will make you fishers of men." And they, without ques- 
tioning his authority or his purpose, immediately left their busi- 
ness at its most interesting and exciting part, (just at the drawing 
of the net,) and followed him, as it here seems at once, through 
Galilee, on his pilgrimage of mercy and love. Matthew gives 
no other particulars whatever, connected with the call of these 
two brothers ; and had we been left to obtain the whole gospel- 
history from him alone, we should have supposed that, before 
this, Peter had no acquaintance, of a personal character at least, 
with Jesus ; and that the call was made merely in a private way. 
without the presence of any other than ordinary accidental wit- 
nesses. From Matthew we hear nothing further respecting Pe- 
ter, until his name is mentioned in the apostolic list, in the tenth 
chapter, except the mention in chapter eighth, of the illness of his 
mother in-law at his house. But the other gospel-writers give us 
many interesting and important particulars in addition, which 
throw new light on the previous circumstances, the manner and 
the consequences of the call. 

2. Mark, in his first chapter, makes it appear as if, immediately 
after the temptation of Christ, and before his entrance into Ca- 
pernaum, he met and summoned the two pairs of brothers, of 
which call the immediate circumstances are given there, in words 
which are a very literal transcript of those of Matthew, with 
hardly the slightest addition. But the events which followed the 
summons are given in such a manner, as to convey an impression 
quite different from that made by Matthew's brief and simple nar- 
rative. After the call, they, both Jesus and his four disciples, 
entered into Capernaum, of which place Mark has before made 



PETER'S DISCIPLESHIP. 



49 



no mention ; and going at once into the synagogue, Jesus preach- 
ed, and confirmed the wonderful authority with which he spoke, 
before the face of the people, by the striking cure of a demoniac. 
From the synagogue he went to the house of Simon and Andrew, 
by which it appears that they already resided in Capernaum. 
Here a new occasion was given for the display of the power and 
benevolence of the Messiah, in the case of Simon's mother-in-law, 
who, laboring under an attack of fever, was instantly entirely re- 
lieved, upon the word of Jesus. This event is given by Matthew 
in a totally different connection. Very early in the next morning, 
Jesus retired to a neighboring solitude, to enjoy himself in medi- 
tation apart from the busy scenes of the sabbath, in which the 
fame of his power had involved him "the evening before. To 
this place, Simon and those with him, no doubt his brother and 
the sons of Zebedee merely, (already it would seem so well ac- 
quainted with their great master as to know his haunts,) followed 
him, to make known to him the earnest wish of the admiring 
people for his presence among them. Jesus then went out with 
them through the villages of Galilee, in the earnest performance 
of the work for which he came. It is not till this place, in the 
story of the leper healed, that the statements of Matthew and 
Mark again meet and coincide. Mark evidently makes significant 
additions to the narrative, and gives us a much more definite and 
decided notion of the situation and conduct of those concerned 
in this interesting transaction. 

3. Luke has given us a view of the circumstances, very dif- 
ferent, both in order and number, as well as character, from those 
of the former writers. His account of the first call of the dis- 
ciples, seems to amount to this ; giving the events in the order in 
which he places them in his fourth and fifth chapters. The first 
mention which is here made of Simon, is in the end of the fourth 
chapter, where his name is barely mentioned in connection with 
the account of the cure of his mother-in-law, which is brought 
in without any previous allusion to any disciple, but is placed in 
other respects, in the same connection as in Mark's, narrative. 
After a full account of this case, which is given with the more 
minuteness, probably from the circumstance that this writer was 
himself a physician, he goes on to relate the particulars of Si- 
mon's call, in the beginning of the fourth chapter, as if it was a 
subsequent event. The general impression from the two prece- 
ding narratives, would naturally be, that Jesus went out on his 



50 



P ETFR S D I S C 1 P I :. E S H I P 



walk by the shore of the lake, by himself, without any extraor- 
dinary attendance. But it now appears, that as he stood on the 
shore, he was beset by an eager multitude, begging to hear from 
him the word of God. On this, casting his eyes about for some 
convenient place to address them, he noticed two fishing vessels 
drawn up near him by the shore, and the owners disembarked 
from them, engaged in washing their nets. He then first spoke 
to Simon, after going on board of his boat, to beg him to push 
oif again a little from the land, and his request being granted, he 
sat down, and from his seat in the boat, taught the multitude 
gathered on the shore. After the conclusion of his discourse, 
perhaps partly, or in some small measure, with the design of 
properly impressing his hearers by a miracle, with the idea of his 
authority to assume the high bearing which so characterized his 
instructions, and which excited so much astonishment among 
them, he urged Simon to push out still further into deep water, 
and to open his nets for a draught. Simon, evidently already so 
favorably impressed respecting his visitor, as to feel disposed to 
obey and gratify him, did according to the request, remarking, 
however, that as he had toiled all night without catching any 
thing, he opened his net again only out of respect to his Divine 
Master, and not because, after so many fruitless endeavors, so 
long continued, it was reasonable to hope for the least success. 
Upon drawing in the net, it was found to be filled with so vast a 
number of fishes, that having been used before its previous rents 
had been entirely mended, it broke with the unusual weight. 
They then made known the difficulty to their friends, the sons of 
Zebedee, who were in the other boat, and were obliged to share 
their burden between the two vessels, which were both so over- 
loaded with the fishes as to be in danger of sinking. At this 
event, so unexpected and overwhelming, Simon was seized with 
mingled admiration and awe ; and reverently besought Jesus to 
depart from a sinful man, so unworthy as he was to be a subject 
of benevolent attention from one so mighty and good. As might 
be expected, not only Peter, but also his companions,— the sons of 
Zebedee, — were struck with a miracle so peculiarly impressive to 
them, because it was an event connected with their daily busi- 
ness, and yet utterly out of the common course of things. But 
Jesus soothed their awe and terror into interest and attachment, 
by telling Simon that henceforth he should find far nobler em- 
ployment in taking men. 



PETER/S BISCIPLESHIP. 51 

4. John takes no notice whatever of this scene by the lake of 
Galilee, but gives us, what is not found in the first three gospels, 
an interesting account, already quoted, of the first introduction of 
Peter to Christ, not choosing to incumber his pages with a new 
repetition or variation of the story of his direct call. 

The office of an apostolic historian becomes at once most ar- 
duous and most important, and the usefulness of his labors is 
most fully shown in such passages as this, where the task of 
weaving the various threads and scraps of sacred history in one 
even and uniform text, is one to which few readers, taking the 
parts detailed in the ordinary way, are competent, and which re- 
quires for its satisfactory achievement, more aids from the long 
accumulated labors of the learned of past ages, than are within 
the reach of any but a favored few. To pass back and forth 
from gospel to gospel, in the search after order and consistency, — 
to bring the lights of other history to clear up the obscurities, and 
show that which fills up the deficiencies of the gospel story, — to 
add the helps of ancient and modern travelers in tracing the topo- 
graphy of the Bible, — to find in lexicons, commentaries, criticisms 
and interpretations, the true and full force of every word of those 
passages in which an important fact is expressed, — these are a few 
of the writer's duties in giving to common readers the results of 
the mental efforts of the theologians of this and past ages, whose 
humble copyist and translator he is. Often aiming, however, at 
an effort somewhat higher than that of giving the opinions and 
thoughts of others, he offers his own account and arrangement 
of the subject, in preference to those of the learned, as being free 
from such considerations as are involved in technicalities above 
the appreciation of ordinary readers, and as standing in a con- 
nected narrative form, while the information on these points, 
found in the works of eminent biblical scholars, is mostly in de- 
tached fragments, which, however complete to the student, require 
much explanation and illustration, to make them useful or inter- 
esting to the majority of readers. Thus in this case, having 
given the three different accounts above, he next proceeds to ar- 
range them into such a narrative as will be consistent with each, 
and contain all the facts. In the discussion of particular points, 
reference can be properly made to the authority of others, where 
necessary to explain or support. 

Taking up the apostolic history, then, where it is left by John, 
as referred to above, and taking the facts from each gospel in what 



O'C PETERS DJSCIPLESHIP. 

seems to be its proper place and time ; the three narratives are 
thus combined into one whole, with the addition of such circum- 
stances as may be inferred by way of explanation, though not di- 
rectly stated. 

Leaving Nazareth, Jesus had come to Capernaum, at the north- 
western end of the lake, and there made his home. About this 
time, perhaps on occasion of his marriage, Simon had left Beth- 
saida, the city of his birth, and now dwelt in Capernaum, proba- 
bly on account of his wife being of that place, and he may have 
gone into the possession of a house, inherited by his marriage, 
which supposition would agree with the circumstance of the re- 
sidence of his wife's mother in her married daughter's family, 
which would not be so easily explainable on the supposicion that 
she had also sons to inherit their father's property, and furnish a 
home to their mother. It has also been suggested, that he proba- 
bly removed to Capernaum after his introduction to Christ, in 
order to enjoy his instructions more conveniently, being near him. 
This motive would no doubt have had some weight. Here the 
two brothers dwelt together in one house, which makes it almost 
certain that Andrew was unmarried, for the peculiarity of eastern 
manners would hardly have permitted the existence of two fam- 
ilies, two husbands, two wives in the same domestic circle. Ma- 
king this place the center of their business, they industriously 
devoted themselves to honest labor, extending their fishing opera- 
tions over the lake, on which they toiled night and day. It seems 
that the house of Simon and Andrew was Jesus's regular place of 
abode while in Capernaum, of which supposition the manifest 
proofs occur in the course of the narrative. Thus when Jesus 
came out of the synagogue, he went to Simon's house, — remained 
there as at a home, during the day, and there received the visits 
of the immense throng of people who brought their sick friends 
to him ; all which he would certainly have been disposed to do 
at his proper residence, rather than where he was a mere occa- 
sional visiter. He is also elsewhere mentioned, as going into Pe- 
ter's house in such a familiar and habitual kind of way, as to 
make the inference very obvious, that it was his home. On 
these terms of close domestic intimacy, did Jesus remain with 
these favored disciples for more than a year, during which time 
he continued to reside at Capernaum. He must have resided in 
some other house, however, on his first arrival in Capernaum, be- 
cause, in the incident which is next given here, his conduct was 



53 

evidently that of a person much less intimately acquainted with 
Simon than a fellow-lodger would be. The circumstances of the 
call evidently show, that Peter, although acquainted with Christ 
previously, in the way mentioned by John, had by no means be- 
come his intimate, daily companion. We learn from Luke, that 
Jesus, walking forth from Capernaum, along the lake, saw two 
boats standing by the lake, but the fishers having gone out of them, 
were engaged in putting their nets and other fishing tackle in or- 
der. As on his walk the populace had thronged about him, from 
curiosity and interest, and were annoying him with requests, he 
sought a partial refuge from their friendly attacks, on board of 
Simon's boat, which was at hand, and begging him to push out a 
little from the land, he immediately made the boat his pulpit, in 
preaching to the throng on shore, sitting down and teaching the 
people out of the boat. When he had left off speaking, he said to 
Simon, "Launch out into the deep, and let down your nets for a 
draught." And Simon answered, " Master, we have toiled all 
night and caught nothing ; nevertheless, at thy word I will let 
down the net." As soon as they did so, they took into the net a 
great multitude of fishes, and the net broke. They then beckon- 
ed t© their partners, who were in the other vessel, that they should 
come and help them. And they came and filled both vessels, 
so that they began to sink. When Simon saw what was the 
result, he fell down at Jesus's knees, saying, " Depart from me ; 
for I am a sinful man, O Lord." For both he, and they that were 
with him, Andrew, James and John, were astonished at the draught 
of fishes they had taken. But Jesus said to Simon, "Fear not] 
from henceforth thou shalt catch men ;" and then gave both to 
him and his brother a distinct call, " Follow me — come after me, 
and I will make you fishers of men." And as soon as they had 
brought thek ships to land, they forsook their nets, ships and all, 
and followed him, not back into Capernaum, but over all Galilee, 
while he preached to wondering thousands the gospel of peace, 
and set forth to them his high claims to their attention and obedi- 
ence, by healing all the diseased which his great fame induced 
them to bring in such multitudes. This was, after all, the true 
object of his calling his disciples to follow him in that manner. 
Can we suppose that he would come out of Capernaum, in the 
morning, and finding there his acquaintances about their honest 
business, would call on them, in that unaccountable manner, to 
follow him back into their home, to which they would of course, 



54 PETERS DISCIPLE^HIF, 

naturally enough, have gone of their own accord, without any di- 
vine call, for a simple act of necessity ! It was evidently with a 
view to initiate them, at once, into the knowledge of the labors to 
which he had called them, and to give them an insight into the 
nature of the trials and difficulties which they must encounter in 
his service. In short, it was to enter them on their apprentice- 
ship to the mysteries of their new and holy vocation. On this 
pilgrimage through Galilee, then, he must have been accompanied 
by his four newly chosen helpers, who thus were daily and hourly 
witnesses of his words and actions, as recorded by all the first 
three evangelists. (Matt. chap. iv. — viin Mark, chap. i. — hi. &c. 
Luke, chap. v. — vi.) 

The accounts which Matthew and Mark give of this call, have seemed so stri- 
kingly different from that of Luke, that Calmet, Thoynard, Macknight, Hug, Mi- 
chaelis, Eichhorn, Marsh, Paulus, (and perhaps some others,) have considered 
Luke's story in v. 1 — 11, as referring t© a totally distinct event. See Calmet's, 
Thoynard's, Macknighfs, Michaelis's, and Vater's harmouies, in loc. Also Eich- 
horn 's introduction, 1. §58, V. II., — Marsh's dissertation on the origin of the three 
gospels, in table of coincident passages, — Paulus's " Commentar weber das Neue 
Test. 1 ' 1 Theil xxiii. Abschnitt; comp. xix. Abschnitt, — Hug's "Einleitung in das 
N. T.," Vol. II. §40. ' : Erste ausAvanderunt;, Lucas, iii." comp. Mark. 

These great authorities would do much to support any arrangement of gospel 
events, but the still larger number of equally high authorities on the other side, jus- 
tifies my boldness in attempting to find a harmony, where these great men could see 
none. Lightfoot, Le Clerc, Arnauld, Newcome, with all his subsequent editors, and 
Thirlwall, in their harmonies, agree in making all three evangelists refer to the same 
event. Grotius, Hammond, Wetstein, Scott, Clarke, Kninoel, and Rosenmueller. in 
their several commentaries in loco, — also Stackhouse in his history of the Bible, and 
Home in his introduction, with many others, all take the view which I have present- 
ed in the text, and may be consultedby those who wish for reasons at greater length 
than my limits will allow. 

" Peter and Andrew dwelt together in one house." — This appears from Mark i. 29, 
where it is said that, after the call of the brothers by Jesus, " they entered the house 
of Simon and Andrew." 

" Sat down and taught the people out of the ship/' verse 3. This was a convenient 
position, adopted by Jesus on another occasion also. Matt. xiii. 2. Mark iv. 1. 

"Launch out." — Luke v. 4. E-avayaye, (Epanagage,) the same word which occurs 
in verse 3, there translated in the common English version, " t hrust out." It was. 
probably, a regular nautical term for this backward movement, though in the classic 
Greek, E^avayuv, (exanagein,) was the form always used to express this idea, inso- 
much that it seems to have been the established technical term. Perhaps Luke may 
have intended this term originally, which might have been corrupted by some early 
copyist into this word, which is in no other place used with this meaning. — " Let 
down," (XaXaaaTt, khalasate, in the plural : the former verb sing.) More literally, 
" loosen," which is the primary signification of the verb, and would be the proper 
one, since the operation of preparing the net to take the fish, consisted in loosening 
the ropes and other tackle, which, of course, were drawn tight, when the net was 
not in use, closing its mouth. "Master, ioe hare toiled ," &c. verse 5. The word 
ETTtarara, (Epistata,) here translated Master, is remarkable, as never occurring in the 
Testament, except in this gospel. Grotius remark's, (in loc.) that doubtless Luke, 
(the most finished and correct Greek scholar of all the sacred writers.) considered 
this term as a more faithful translation of the Hebrew -yy, {Rabbi,') than the common 
expressions of the other evangelists, Kvou, (Kurie, Lord,) and (5uW>ca>£, {didaskoh:, 
teacher.) It was a moderate, though dignified title, between these two in its charac- 
ter, rather lower than " Lord," and rather higher than " Teacher." It is used in the 
Alexandrian version, as the proper term for a " steward," a (: military commander," 



PETER'S DISCIPLESHIP. 55 

&c. (See Grotins theol. op. Vol. IT. p. 372; or Poole's Synopsis on this passage.) 
u Toiled all night' 1 This was the best time for taking the fish, as is well known lo 
those who follow fishing for a living. 

On this journey, they saw some of his most remarkable miracles, 
such as the healing of the leper, the paralytic, the man with the 
withered hand, and others of which the details are not given. It 
was also during this time, that the sermon on the mount was de- 
livered, which was particularly addressed to his disciples, and was 
plainly meant for their instruction, in the conduct proper in them 
as the founders of the gospel faith. Besides passing through ma- 
ny cities on the nearer side, he also crossed over the lake, and vis- 
ited the rude people of those wild districts. The journey was, 
therefore, a very long one, and must have occupied several weeks. 
After he had sufficiently acquainted them with the nature of the 
duties to which he had consecrated them, and had abundantly im- 
pressed them with the high powers which he possessed, and of 
which they were to be the partakers, he came back to Capernaum, 
and there entered into the house of Simon, which he seems hence- 
forth to have made his home while in that city. They found, 
that, during their absence, the mother-in-law of Simon had been 
taken ill, and was then suffering under the heat of a violent fever. 
Jesus at once, with a word, pronounced her cure, and immediate- 
ly the fever left her so perfectly healed, that she arose from her 
sick bed, and proceeded to welcome their return, by her grateful 
efforts to make their home comfortable to them, after their tiresome 
pilgrimage. 

" Immediately the fever left her."— Matt. viii. 15 : Mark i. 31 : Luke iv. 39. It 
may seem quite idle to conjecture the specific character of this fever ; but it seems 
to me a very justifiable guess, that it was a true intermittent, or fever and ague, ari- 
sing from the marsh influences, which must have been very strong in such a place as ■ 
Capernaum, — situated as it was, on the low margin of a large fresh water lake, and 
with all the morbific agencies of such an unhealthy site, increased by the heat of 
that climate. The immediate termination of the fever, under these circumstances, 
was an abundant evidence of the divine power of Christ's word, over the evil agen- 
cies, which mar the health and happiness of mankind. 

During some time after this, Peter does not seem to have left 
his home for any long period at once, until Christ's long journeys 
to Judea and Jerusalem, but no doubt accompanied Jesus on all 
his excursions through Galilee, besides the first, of which the his- 
tory has been here given. It would be hard, and exceedingly 
unsatisfactory, however, to attempt to draw out from the short, 
scattered incidents which fill the interesting records of the gos- 
pels, any very distinct, detailed narrative of these various journeys. 
The chronology and order of most of these events, is still left 



56 peter's discipleship 

much in the dark, and most of the pains taken to bring out the 
truth to the light, have only raised the greater dust to blind the 
eyes of the eager investigator. To pretend to roll all these clouds 
away at once, and open to common eyes a clear view of facts, 
which have so long confused the minds of some of the wisest and 
best of almost every Christian age, and too often, alas ! in turn, been 
confused by them, — such an effort, however well meant, could 
only win for its author the contempt of the learned, and the per- 
plexed dissatisfaction of common readers. But one very simple, 
and comparatively easy task, is plainly before the writer, and to 
that he willingly devotes himself for the present. This task is T 
that of separating and disposing, in what may seem their natural 
order, with suitable illustration and explanation, those few facts 
contained in the gospels, relating distinctly to this apostle. These 
facts, accordingly, here follow, 

HIS FIRST MISSION. 

The next affair in which Peter is mentioned, by either evan- 
gelist, is the final enrolling of the twelve peculiar disciples, to whom 
Jesus gave the name of apostles. In their proper place have al- 
ready been mentioned, both the meaning of this title and the rank 
of Peter on the list ; and it need here only be remarked, that Pe- 
ter went forth with the rest, on this their first and experimental 
mission. All the first three gospels contain this account ; but 
Matthew enters most fully into the charge of Jesus, in giving them 
their first commission. In his tenth chapter, this charge is given 
with such particularity, that a mere reference of the reader to that 
place will be sufficient, without any need of explanation here. 
After these minute directions for their behavior, they departed, 
as Mark and Luke record, and went through the towns, preaching 
the gospel, that men should repent. And they cast out many 
devils, and anointed with oil many that were sick, and healed 
them. How far their journey extended, cannot be positively de- 
termined, but there is no probability that they went beyond the 
limits of Galilee. Divided as they were into couples, and each 
pair taking a different route, a large space must have been gone 
over in this mission, however brief the time can be supposed 
to have been. As to the exact time occupied, we are, indeed, as 
uncertain as in respect to the distance to which they traveled ; 
but from the few incidents placed by Mark and Luke between their 
departure and return, it could hardly have been more than a few 
weeks, probably only a few days. The only affair mentioned 



PETERS DISCIPLESHIP. Of 

by either evangelist, between their departure and return, is, the 
notice taken by Herod of the actions of Jesus, to whom his atten- 
tion was drawn by his resemblance to John the Baptist. They 
then say, that the apostles, when they were returned, gathered 
themselves together to Jesus, and told him all things, — both 
what they had done and what they had taught. As this report 
was received by Jesus, without any comment that is recorded, it 
is fair to conclude, that their manner of preaching, and the success 
of their labors, had been such as to deserve his approbation. In 
this mission, there is nothing particularly commemorated with re- 
spect to Peter's conduct ; but no doubt the same fiery zeal which 
distinguished him afterwards, on so many occasions, made him 
foremost in this his earliest apostolic labor. His rank, as chief 
apostle, too, probably gave him some prominent part in the mission, 
and his field of operations must have been more important and 
extensive than that of the inferior apostles, and his success pro- 
portionably greater. 

It is deserving of notice, that on this first mission, Jesus seems to have arranged (he 
twelve in pairs, in which order he probably sent them forth, as he certainly did the 
seventy disciples, described in Luke x. 1. The object of this arrangement, was no 
doubt to secure them that mutual support which was so desirable for men, so unac- 
customed to the high duties on which they were now dispatched. 

Their destination, also, deserves attention. The direction of Jesus was, that 
they should avoid the way of the heathen, and the cities of the Samaritans, who were 
but little better, and should go to the lost sheep ' of 'the house of Israel. This expression 
was quoted, probably, from those numerous passages in the prophets, where this term 
is applied to the Israelites, as in Jer. 1. 6, Isa. liii. 6, Ezek. xxxiv. 6, &c, and was 
used with peculiar force, in reference to the condition of those to whom Jesus sent 
his apostles. It seems to me, as if he, by this peculiar term, meant to limit them to 
the provinces of Galilee, where the state and character of the Jews was such as emi- 
nently to justify this melancholy appellative. The particulars of their condition will 
be elsewhere shown. They were expressly bounded on one side, from passing into 
the heathen territory, and on the other from entering the cities of the Samaritans, who 
dwelt between Galilee and Judea proper, so that a literal obedience of these instruc- 
tions, would have confined them entirely to Galilee, their native land. Macknight 
also takes this view. The reasons of this limitation, are abundant and obvious. The 
peculiarly abandoned moral condition of that outcast section of Palestine, — the per- 
fect familiarity which the apostles must have felt with the people of their own region, 
whose peculiarities of language and habits they themselves shared so perfectly as to 
be unfitted for a successful outset among the Jews of the south, without more experi- 
ence out of Galilee, — the shortness of the time, which seems to have been taken up in 
this mission, — the circumstance that Jesus sent them to proclaim that " the kingdom 
of heaven was at hand," that is, that the Messiah was approaching, which he did in 
order to arouse the attention of the people to himself, when he should go to them, (com- 
pare Luke x. 1,) thus making them his forerunners ; and the fact, that the places to 
which he actually did go with them, on their return, were all in Galilee, (Matt. xi. 
xix. 1, Mark vi. 7, x. 1, Luke ix. 1—51,) all serve to show that this first mission of the 
apostles, was limited entirely to the Jewish population of Galilee. His promise to 
them also in Matt. x. 2, 3, " you shall not finish the cities of Israel, before the son of 
man come," seems to me to mean simply, that there would be no occasion for them 
to extend their labors to the Gentile cities of Galilee, or to the Samaritans ; because, 
before they could finish their specially allotted field of survey, he himself would be 
ready to follow them, and confirm their labors. This was mentioned to them in eon- 



5b peter's discipleship. 

nection with the prediction of persecutions which the)' would meet, as an encourage- 
ment. For various other explanations of this last passage, see Poole's Synopsis, Ro- 
^enmueller, Wetstein, Macknight, Le Sainte Bible avec notes, &c. in loc. But Kui- 
noel, who quotes on his side Beza, Bolten, and others, supports the view, which an un- 
assisted consideration induced me to suggest. 

" Anoi'iiied with oil" Mark vi. 13. The same expression occurs in James v. 14, 
and needs explanation from its connection with a peculiar rite of the Romish church, — 
extreme unction, from which it differs, however, inasmuch as it was always a hope- 
ful operation, intended to aid the patient, and secure his recovery, while the Romish 
ceremon)" - is always performed in case of complete despair of life, only with a view to 
prepare the patient, by this mummery, for certain death. The operation mentioned 
as so successfully performed by the apostles, for the cure of diseases, was undoubtedly 
a simple remedial process, previously in long-established use among the Hebrews, as 
clearly appears by the numerous authorities quoted by Lightfoot, Wetstein, and Pau- 
lus, from Rabbinical Greek and Arabic sources; yet Beza and others, quoted in Poole's 
Synopsis, as well as Rosenmueller, suggest some symbolical force in the ceremony, for 
which see those works in loc. See also Kuinoel, and Bloomfield who gives numerous 
references. See also Marlorat's Bibliutheea expositionum, Stackhouse's Hist, of the 
Bible, Whitby, &c. 

THE SCENES ON THE LAKE. 

After receiving the report of his apostles' labors, Jesus said to 
them, " Come ye yourselves apart into a retired place, and rest 
awhile :" for there were many coming and going, and they had no 
leisure so much as to eat. And he took them and went privately 
by ship aside, into a lonely place, near the city called Bethsaida. 
And the people saw him departing, and many knew him, and went 
on foot to the place, out of all the country, and outwent them, and 
came together to him as soon as he reached there. And he re- 
ceived them, and spoke unto them of the kingdom of God, and 
healed them that had need of healing. It was on this occasion 
that he performed the miracle of feeding the multitude with five 
loaves and two fishes. So great was the impression made on their 
minds by this extraordinary act of benevolence and power, that he 
thought it best, in order to avoid the hindrance of his great task, 
by any popular commotion in his favor, to go away in such 
a manner as to be effectually beyond their reach for the time.— 
With this view he constrained his disciples to get into the ship, 
and go before him to the other side of the lake, opposite to Beth- 
saida, where they then were ; while he sent away the people. 
After sending the multitude away, he went up into a mountain, 
apart, to pray. And after night fall, the vessel was in the midst 
of the sea, and he alone on the land. Thence he saw them toiling 
with rowing, (for the wind was contrary to them, and the- ship 
tossed in the waves:) and about three or four o'clock in the morn- 
ing, he comes to them, walking on the sea, and appeared as if 
about to pass unconcernedly by them. But when they saw him 
walking upon the sea. they supposed it to have been a spirit, and 



DISCIPLESHIP. 



59 



they all cried out, " It is a spirit ;" for they all saw him, and were 
alarmed ; and immediately he spoke to them, and said " Be com- 
forted ; it is I; be not afraid." And Peter, foremost in zeal on 
this occasion, as at almost all times, said to him, "Lord, if it be 
thou, bid me come to thee upon the water." And he said, " Come/' 
And when Peter had come down out of the vessel, he walked on 
the water, to go to Jesus. But when he saw the wind boisterous, 
he was afraid ; and beginning to sink, he cried, " Lord, save me." 
And immediately Jesus stretched forth his hand, and caught him ; 
and said to him, "O thou of little faith! wherefore didst thou 
doubt V And when they were come into the ship, the wind ceas- 
ed ; and they were sore amazed in themselves beyond measure, 
and wondered. And all they that were in the vessel came and 
worshiped him, saying, " Of a truth, thou art the Son of God." 
This amazement and reverence was certainly very tardily ac- 
knowledged by them, after all the wonders they had seen wrought 
by him ; but they considered not the miracle of the loaves, the 
most recent of all, which happened but a few hours before. For 
this thoughtlessness, in a matter so striking and weighty, Jesus 
himself afterwards rebuked them, referring both to this miracle of 
feeding the five thousand, and to a subsequent similar one. How- 
ever, the various great actions of a similar character, thus repeat 
ed before them, seem at last to have had a proper effect, since, on 
an occasion not long after, they boldly and clearly made their 
profession of faith in Jesus, as the Christ. 

"A lonely place." — The word desert, which is the adjective given in this passage, 
in the common English version, (Matt. xiv. 13, 15, Mark vi. 31, 32, 35, Luke ix. 10, 
12,) does not convey to the reader, the true idea of the character of the place. The 
Greek word Ep^os (eremos) does not in the passages just quoted, mean "desert" in 
our modern sense of that English word, which always conveys the idea of " desola- 
tion," " wildness" and " barrenness," as well as " solitude." But the Greek word by 
no means implied these darker characteristics. The primary, uniform idea of the 
word is, " lonely" " solitary ," and so little does it imply " barrenness," that it is appli- 
ed to lands, rich, fertile and pleasant, a connection, of course, perfectly inconsistent 
with our ideas of a desert place. Schleusner gives the idea very fairly under Epv/iia, 
(eremia,) a derivative of this word. " Notat locum aliquem vel tractum terrae, non 
tarn incultum et horridum, quam minus habitabilem, — solitudinem, — locum vacuum 
quidem ab hominibus, pascuis tamen et agris abundantem, et arboribus obsitum." " It 
means a place or tract of land, not so much uncultivated and wild, as it does one thin- 
ly inhabited, — a solitude, a place empty of men indeed, yet rich in pastures and fields, 
and planted with trees." But after giving this very clear and satisfactory account of 
the derivative, he immediately after gives to the primitive itself, the primary mean- 
ing " desertus, desolatus, vastus, devastatus," and refers to passages where the word 
is applied to ruined cities ; but in every one of those passages, the true idea is that 
above given as the meaning, "stripped of inhabitants," and not "desolated" or "laid 
waste." Hedericus gives this as the 'first meaning, " desertus, solus, solitarius, inhabi- 
tatus." Schneider also fully expresses it, in German, by "einsam" (lonely, solitary,) 
m which he is followed by Passow, his improver, and by Donnegan, his English 
translator. Jones and Pickering, also give it thus, Brctschncider and Wahl, in 



60 Peter's DisciPLEsHif. 

their N. T. Lexicons, have given a j ust and proper classification of the meanings 
The word "desert" came into our English translation, by the minute verbal adhe- 
rence of the translators to the Vulgate or Latin version, where the word is expressed 
by " desertum" probably enough because descrtus, in Latin, does not mean desert in 
English, nor any thing like it, but simply "lonely," " uninhabited ;" — in short, it has 
the force of the English participle, " deserted," and not of the adjective " desert," which 
has probably acquired its modern meaning, and lost its old one, since our common 
translation was made ; thus making one instance, among ten thousand others, of the 
imperfection of this aneient translation, which was, at best, but a servile English ren- 
dering of the Vulgate. Campbell, in his four gospels, has repeated this passage, with- 
out correcting the error, though Hammond, long before, in his just and beautiful par- 
aphrase, (on Matt. xiv. 13,) had corrected it by the expression, " a -place not inhabited." 
Charles Thomson, in his version, has overlooked the error in Matt. xiv. 13, 15, but 
has corrected it in Mark vi. 31, &c. and in Luke ix. 10; expressing it by "solitary." 
The remark of the apostles to Jesus, " This place is lonely," does not require the idea 
of a barren or wild place ; it was enough that it was far "from any village, and had 
not inhabitants enough to furnish food for five thousand men ; as in 2 Cor. xi. 26, it 
is used in opposition to " city," in the sense of :c the country." 

HIS DECLARATION OF CHRIST'S DIVINITY. 

Journeying on northward, Jesus came into the neighborhood 
of Cesarea Philippi, and while he was there in some solitary place, 
praying alone with his select disciples, at the conclusion of his 
prayer, he asked them, " Who do men say that I, the son of man, 
am?" And they answered him, " Some say that thou art John 
the Baptist :" Herod, in particular, we know, had this notion ; " some, 
that thou art Elijah, and others that thou art Jeremiah, or one of 
the prophets, that is risen again." So peculiar was his doctrine, 
•and so far removed was he, both in impressive eloquence and in 
original views, from the degeneracy and servility of that age, that 
the universal sentiment was, that one of the bold, pure -spirits of 
the fervent days of old," had come back to call Judah from foreign 
servitude, to the long remembered glories of the reigns of David 
and Solomon. But his chosen ones, who had by repeated instruc- 
tion, as well as long acquaintance, better learned their Master, 
though still far from appreciating his true character and designs, 
had yet a higher and juster idea of him, than the unenlightened 
multitudes who had been amazed by his deeds. To draw from 
them the distinct acknowledgment of their belief "in him, Jesus 
at last plainly asked his disciples, " But who do ye say that I 
am ?" Simon Peter, in his usual character as spokesman, replied 
for the whole band, " Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living 
God." Jesus, recognizing in this prompt answer, the fiery and de- 
voted spirit that would follow the great work of redemption through 
life, and at last to death, replied to the zealous speaker in terms 
of marked and exalted honor, prophesying at the same time the 
high part which he would act in spreading and strengthening the 
kingdom of his Master : " Blessed art thou, Simon, son of Jonah, 



peter's discipleship. 61 

for flesh and blood have not revealed this unto thee, but my Fa- 
ther who is in heaven. And I say also unto thee, that thou art 
a rock, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates 
of hell shall not prevail against it. And I will give thee the keys 
of the kingdom of heaven : and whatsoever thou shalt bind on 
earth shall be bound in heaven : and whatsoever thou shalt loose 
on earth, shall be loosed in heaven." In such high terms was 
the chief apostle distinguished, and thus did his Master peculiarly 
commission him above the rest, for the high office, to which all 
the energies of his remaining life were to be devoted. 

Who do men say that 1 am. — The common English translation, here makes a gross 
grammatical blunder, putting the relative in the objective case, — " Whom do men 
say," &c. (Matt. xvi. 13 — 15.) It is evident that on inverting the order, putting the 
relative last instead of first, it will be in the nominative, — " Men say that I am who 7" 
making, in short, a nominative after the verb, though it here comes before it by the 
inversion which the relative requires. Here again the blunder may be traced to a 
heedless copying of the Vulgate. In Latin, as in Greek, the relative is given in the 
accusative, and very properly, because it is followed by the infinitive. " Q.uem dicunt 
homines esse Filium hominis V which literally is, " Whom do men say the son of 
man to be 1" — a very correct form of expression; but the blunder of our transla- 
tors was, in preserving the accusative, while they changed the verb, from the infinitive 
to the finite form ; for " whom" cannot be governed by " say." Hammond has passed 
over the blunder ; but Campbell, Thomson, and Webster, have corrected it. 

Son of Man. — This expression has acquired a peculiarly exalted sense in our minds, 
in consequence of its repeated application to Jesus Christ, and its limitation to him, 
in the New Testament. But in those days it had no meaning by which it could be 
considered expressive of any peculiar characteristic of the Savior, being a mere gen- 
eral emphatic expression for the common word " man," used in solemn address or 
poetical expressions. Both in the Old and New Testament it is many times applied 
to men in general, and to particular individuals, in such a way as to show that it was 
only an elegant periphrasis for the common term, without implying any peculiar im- 
portance in the person thus designated, or referring to any peculiar circumstance as 
justifying this appellative in that case. Any concordance will show how commonly 
the word occurred in this connection. The diligent Butterworth enumerates eighty- 
nine times in which this word is applied to Ezekiel, in whose book of prophecy it oc- 
curs oftener than in any other book in the Bible. It is also applied to Daniel, in the 
address of the angel to him, as to Ezekiel ; and in consideration of the vastly more 
frequent occurrence of the expression in the writers after the captivity, and its exclu- 
sive use by them as a formula of solemn address, it has been commonly considered 
as having been brought into this usage among the Hebrews, from the dialects of Chal- 
dea and Syria, where it was much more common. In Syriac, more particularly, the 
simple expression, " man," is entirely banished from use by this solemn periphrasis, 



!$.£} {bar-nosh,) "son of man," which every where takes the place of the original 

direct form. It should be noticed also, that in every place in the Old Testament 
where this expression (" son of man") occurs, before Ezekiel, the former part of the 
■sentence invariably contains the direct form of expression, (" man,") and this peri- 
phrasis is given in the latter part of every such sentence, for the sake of a poetical 
repetition of the same idea in a slightly different form. Take, for instance, Psalm 
viii. 4, " What is man, that thou art mindful of him 1 or the son of man, that thou 
visitest him"?" And exactly so in every other passage anterior to Ezekiel, as Num- 
bers xxiii. 19, Job xxv. 16, xxxv. 8, Isa. li. 12, lvi. 2, and several other passages, to 
which any good concordance will direct the reader. 

The New Testament writers too, apply this expression in other ways than as a 
name of Jesus Christ. It is given as a mere periphrasis, entirely synonymous with 
" man," in a general or abstract sense, without reference to any particular individual, 
in Mark iii. 28, (compare Matt. xii. 13, where the simple expression " men" is given,) 

9 



62 peter's djscipleship- 

Heb. ii. 6, (a mere translation of Ps. viii. 4.) Eph. iii. 5, Rev. i. 13, xiv. 14. in the 
peculiar emphatic limitation to which this note refers, it is applied by Jesus Christ to 
himself about eighty times in the gospels, but is never used by any other person in the 
New Testament, as a name of the Savior, except by Stephen, in Acts, vii. 56. It ne- 
ver occurs in this sense in the apostolic epistles. (Bretsclmeider.) For this use of the 
word, I should not think it necessary to seek any mystical or important reason, as so 
many have done, nor can I see that in its application to Jesus, it has any very direct 
reference to the circumstance of his having, though divine, put on a human nature, 
but simply a nobly modest and strikingly emphatic form of expression used by him, in 
speaking of his own exalted character and mighty plans, and partly to avoid the too 
frequent repetition of the personal pronoun. It is at once evident that this indirect 
form, in the third person, is both more dignified and modest in solemn address, than 
the use of the first person singular of the pronoun. Exactly similar to this are many 
forms of circumlocution with which we are familiar. The presiding officer of any 
great deliberative assembly, for instance, in announcing his own decision on points of 
order, by a similar periphrasis, says " The chair decides," &c. In fashionable forms 
of intercourse, such instances are still more frequent. In many books, where the wri- 
ter has occasion to speak of himself, he speaks in the third person, "the author," &c. \ 
as in an instance close at hand, in this book it will be noticed, that where it is neces- 
sary for me to allude to myself in the text of the work, which, of course, is more eleva- 
ted in its tone than the notes, I speak, according to standard forms of scriptorial pro- 
priety, in the third person, as ''the author," &c. ; while here, in these small discus- 
sions, which break in on the more dignified narrative, I find it at once more conven- 
ient and proper, to use the more familiar and simple forms of expresssion. 

This periphrasis (" son of") is not peculiar to oriental languages, as every Greek 
scholar knows, who is familiar with Homer's common expression vug A^atwv, {vies 
Akhaiou.) ''sons of Grecians." instead of "Grecians" simply, which by a striking co- 
incidence, occurs in Joel iii. 6, in the same sense. Other instances might be needlessly 
multipled. 

Thou art a Rod:, qV. — This is the just translation of Peter's name, and the force of 
the declaration is best understood by this rendering. As it stands in the original, it is 
•' Thou arl Ylcrpos, (Pctros, " a rock.'*) and on this Herpa {JPetra y ''a rock") I will build 
my church," — a play on the words so palpable, that great injustice is done to its force 
by a common tame, unexplained translation. The variation of the words in the 
Greek, from the masculine to the feminine termination, makes no difference in the 
expression. In the Greek Testament, the feminine nsrpa (petra) is the only form of 
the word used as the common noun for " rock," but the masculine -erpos (petros) is 
used in the most finished classic writers of the ancient Greek, of the Ionic, Doric and 
Attic, as Homer, Plerodotus, Pindar, Xenophon, and, in the later order of writers. 
Diodorus Siculus. 

H. Stephens gives the masculine form as the primitive, but Schneider derives it 
from the feminine. 

After this distinct profession of faith in him, by his disciples, 
through Peter, Jesus particularly and solemnly charged them all, 
that they should not. then, assert their belief to others, lest they 
should thereby be drawn into useless and unfortunate contests 
about their Master, with those who entertained a very different 
opinion of him. For Jesus knew that his disciples, shackled and 
possessed as they were with their fantasies about the earthly reign 
of a Messiah, were not, as yet, sufficiently prepared to preach this 
doctrine : and wisely foresaw that the mass of the Jewish people 
would either put no faith at ail in such an announcement, or that 
the ill disposed and ambitious would abuse it, to the purposes of 
effecting a political revolution, by raising a rebellion against the 
Roman rulers oi Palestine, and oversetting foreign power. He 



Jeter's discipleshiP 63 

had, it is true, already sent forth his twelve apostles, to preach the 
coming of the kingdom, (Matt. x. 7,) but that was only to the ef- 
fect that the time of the Messiah's reign was nigh,- --that the lives 
and hearts of all must be changed, — all which the apostles might 
well preach, without pretending to announce who the Messiah 
was. 

HIS AMBITIOUS HOPES AND THEIR HUMILIATION. 

This avowal of Peter's belief that Jesus was the Messiah, to 
which the other apostles gave their assent, silent or loud, was so 
clear and hearty, that Jesus plainly perceived their persuasion of 
his divine authority to be so strong, that they might now bear a 
decisive and open explanation of those things which he had hith- 
erto rather darkly and dimly hinted at, respecting his own death. 
He also at this time, brought out the full truth the more clearly 
as to the miseries which hung over him, and his expected death, 
with the view the more effectually to overthrow those false no- 
tions which they had preconceived of earthly happiness and tri- 
umph, to be expected in the Messiah's kingdom; and with the 
view, also, of preparing them for the events which must shortly 
happen; lest, after they saw him nailed to the cross, they should 
all at once lose their high hopes, and utterly give him up. He 
knew too, that he had such' influence with his disciples, that if 
their minds were shocked, and their faith in him shaken, at first, 
by such a painful disclosure, he could soon bring- them back to a 
proper confidence in him. Accordingly, from this time, he began 
distinctly to set forth to them, how he must go to Jerusalem, and 
suffer many things from the elders, and chief priests, and scribes, and 
be killed, and be raised again the third day. There is much room 
for reasonable doubt, as to the manner in which those who heard 
this declaration of Christ, understood it at the time. As to the 
former part of it, namely, that he would be ill-treated by the great 
men of the Jewish nation, both by those ruling in the civil and re- 
ligious government, it was too plain for any one to put any but 
the right meaning upon it. But the promise that he should, after 
this horrible fate, rise again from the dead on the third day, did 
not, as it is evident, by any means convey to them the meaning 
which all who read it now, are able to find in it. Nothing can 
be more plain to a careful reader of the gospels, than that his dis- 
ciples and friends had not the slightest expectation that he would 
ever appear to them after his cruel death ; and the mingled horror 
and dread with which the first news of that event was received by 



64 peter's dis-cipleship, 

them, shows them to have been utterly unprepared for it. It re- 
quired repeated positive demonstration, on his part, to assure them 
that he was truly alive among them, in his own form and char- 
acter. The question then is — what meaning had they all along 
given to the numerous declarations uttered by him to them, appa- 
rently foretelling this, in the distinct terms, of which the above 
passage is a specimen ? Had they understood it as we do, and yet 
so absolutely disbelieved it, that they put no faith in the event it- 
self, when it had so palpably occurred ? And had they, for months 
and years, followed over Palestine, through labors, and troubles, 
and dangers, a man, who, as they supposed, was boldly endeavor- 
ing to saddle their credulity with a burden too monstrous for even 
them to bear ? They must, from the nature of their connection 
with him, have put the most unlimited confidence in him, and 
could not thus devotedly have given themselves up to a man whom 
they believed or suspected to be constantly uttering to them a 
falsehood so extravagant and improbable. They must, then, have 
put some meaning on it, different from that which our clearer 
light enables us to see in it ; and that meaning, no doubt, they 
honestly and firmly believed, until the progress of events showed 
them the power of the prophecy in its wonderful and literal ful- 
filment. They may have misunderstood it in his life time, in 
this way : the universal character of the language of the children 
of Shem, seems to be a remarkable proneness to figurative expres- 
sions, and the more abstract the ideas which the speaker wishes 
to convey, the more strikingly material are the figures he uses, 
and the more poetical the language in which he conveys them. 
Teachers of morals and religion, most especially, have, among 
those nations of the east, been always distinguished for their high- 
ly figurative expressions, and none abound more richly in them 
than the writers of the Old and New Testament. So peculiarly 
effective, for his great purposes, did Jesus Christ, in particular, 
find this variety of eloquence, that it is distinctly said of him, that 
he seldom or never spoke to the people without a parable, which 
he was often obliged to expound more in detail, to his chosen fol- 
lowers, when apart with them. This style of esoteric and exoteric 
instruction, had early taught his disciples to look into his most 
ordinary expressions for a hidden meaning ; and what can be more 
likely than that often, when left to their own conjectures, they, 
for a time, at least, overleaped the simple literal truth, into a fog 
of figurative interpretations, as too many of their very modern sue- 



65 

cessors have often done, to their own and others' misfortune. We 
certainly know that, in regard to those very expressions about 
raising the dead, there was a very earnest inquiry among the three 
chief apostles, some time after, as will be mentioned in place, 
showing that it never seemed possible to them that their Lord, 
mighty as he had showed himself, could ever mean to say to them, 
that, when his bitter foes had crowned his life of toil and cares 
with a bloody and cruel exit, he — even He, could dare to promise 
them, that he would break through that iron seal, which, when 
once set upon the energies of man, neither goodness, nor valor, 
nor knowledge, nor love, had ever loosened, but which, since the 
first dead yielded his breath, not the mightiest prophet, nor the 
most inspired, could ever break through for himself. The figure 
of death and resurrection, has often been made a striking image 
of many moral changes ; — of some one of which, the hearers of 
Jesus probably first interpreted it. In connection with what he 
had previously said, nothing could seem more natural to them,, 
than that he, by this peculiarly strong metaphor, wished to re- 
mind them that, even after his death, by the envious and cruel 
hands of Jewish magistrates, after but a few days, his name, the 
ever fresh influence of his bright and holy example — the undying 
powers of his breathing and burning words, should still live with 
them, and with them triumph after the momentary struggles of 
the enemies of the truth. 

The manner, also, in which Simon Peter received this com- 
munication, shows that he could not have anticipated so glorious 
and dazzling a result of such horrible evils : for, however lite- 
rally he may have taken the prophecy of Christ's cruel death, he 
used all his powers to dissuade his adored master from exposing 
himself to a fate so dark and dreadful, — so sadly destructive of 
all the new-born hopes of his chosen followers, and from which 
the conclusion of the prophecy seemed to offer no clear or certain 
mode of escape. Never before, had Jesus spoken in such plain 
and decided terms, about the prospect of his own terrible death. 
Peter, whose heart had just been lifted up to the skies with joy 
and hope, in the prospect of the glorious triumphs to be achieved 
by his Lord through his means, and whose thoughts were even 
then dwelling on the honors, the power, the fame, which was to 
accrue to him for his share in the splendid work,— was shocked 
beyond measure, at the strange and seemingly contradictory view 
of the results, now taken by his great leader. With the confi- 



66 WATER'S DTSCTPI.E^BiP, 

dent familiarity to which their mutual love and intimacy entitled 
him, in some measure, he laid his hand expostulatingly upon 
him, and drew him partly aside, to urge him privately to forget 
thoughts of despondency, so unworthy of the great enterprise of 
Israel's restoration, to which they had all so manfully pledged 
themselves as his supporters. We may presume, that he, in a 
tone of encouragement, endeavored to show him how impossible 
it would be for the dignitaries of Jerusalem to withstand the tide 
of popularity which had already set so strongly in favor of Jesus ; 
that so far from looking upon himself as in danger of a death so 
infamous, from the Sanhedrim, he might, at the head of the hosts 
of his zealous Galileans, march as a conqueror to Jerusalem, and 
thence give laws from the throne of his father David, to all the 
wide territories of that far-ruling king. Such dreams of earthly 
glory seemed to have filled the soul of Peter at that time ; and 
we cannot wonder, then, that every ambitious feeling within him 
recoiled at the gloomy announcement, that the idol of his hopes 
was to end his days of unrequited toil, by a death so infamous 
as that of the cross. " Be it far from thee, Lord," " God forbid," 
u Do not say so," " Do not thus damp our courage and high 
hopes," " This must not happen to thee." — Jesus, on hearing 
these words of ill-timed rebuke, which showed how miserably his 
chief follower had been infatuated and misled, by his foolish and 
carnal ambition, turned away indignantly from the low and de- 
graded motives, by which Peter sought to bend him from his holy 
purposes. Not looking upon him, but upon the other disciples, 
who had kept their feelings of regret and disappointment to them- 
selves, he, in the most energetic terms, expressed his abhorrence 
of such notions, by his language to the speaker. " Get thee be- 
hind me, Satan ; thou art a scandal to me ; for thou savorest not 
the things which be of God, but the things which be of men. 
In these fervent aspirations after eminence, I recognize none of 
the pure devotion to the good of man, which is the sure test of 
the love of God ; but the selfish desire for transient, paltry dis- 
tinction, which characterizes the vulgar ambition of common 
men, enduring no toil or pain, but in the hope of a more than 
equal earthly reward speedily accruing." After this stern reply, 
which must have strongly impressed them all with the nature of 
the mistake of which they had been guilty, he addressed them 
still further, in continuation of the same design, of correcting 
their false notion of the earthly advantages to be expected by his 



feter's discipleship. 67 

companions in toil. He immediately gave them a most untempt- 
ing picture of the character and conduct of him, who could be 
accepted as a fit fellow- worker with Jesus, " If any one wishes 
to come after me, let him deny himself, and let him take up his 
cross, (as if we should say, let him come with his halter around 
his neck, and with the gibbet on his shoulder,) and follow me. 
For whosoever shall save his life for my sake, shall lose it ; and 
whosoever will lose his life for my sake, shall find it. For what 
is a man profited, if lie shall gain the whole world, and lose his 
own soul ? For the Son of Man shall come in the glory of his 
Father, with his angels ; and then, he shall reward every man 
according to his works." " I solemnly tell you, there are some 
standing here who shall not taste of death, till they see the Son 
of Man coming in his kingdom." — " In vain would you, in pur- 
suit of your idle dreams of earthly glory, yield up all the powers 
of your soul, and spend your life for an object so worthless. Af- 
ter all, what is there in all the world, if you should have the 
whole at your disposal — what, for the momentary enjoyment of 
which, you can calmly pay down your soul as the price 1 Seek 
not, then, for rewards so unworthy of the energies which I have 
recognized in you, and have devoted to far nobler purposes. 
Higher honors will crown your toils and sufferings, in my ser- 
vice ; — nobler prizes are seen near, with the eye of faith. Speed- 
ily will the frail monuments of this world's wonders crumble, and 
the memory of its greatnesses pass away ; but over the ruins of 
kingdoms, the coming of the Man to whom you have joined 
yourselves is sure, and in that triumphant advent, you shall find 
the imperishable requital of your faithful and zealous works. 
And of the nature and aspect of the glories which I now so 
dimly shadow in words, some of those who now hear me shall 
soon be the living witnesses, as of a foretaste of rewards, whose 
full enjoyment can be yours, only after the weariness and misery 
of this poor life are all passed. Years of toil, dangers, pain, and 
sorrow, — lives passed in contempt and disgrace, — deaths of igno- 
miny, of unpitied anguish, and lingering torture, must be your 
passage to the joys of which I speak ; while the earthly honors 
which you now covet, shall for ages continue to be the prize of 
the base, the cruel, and the foolish, from whom you vainly hope 
to avert them." 

the transfiguration. 
The mysterious promise thus made by Jesus, of a new and 



68 Peter's discipleship, 

peculiar exhibition of himself, to some of his chosen ones, he 
soon sought an occasion of executing, About six or eight days 
after this remarkable conversation, he took Peter, and the two 
sons of Zebedee, James and John, and went with them up into a 
high mountain, apart by themselves. As to the name and place 
of this mountain, a matter of some interest certainly, there have 
been two opinions among those who have attempted to illustrate 
the topography of the gospels. The phrase, " a high mountain,' 7 
has instantly brought to the thoughts of most learned readers, 
Mount Tabor, famous for several great events in Bible history, 
which they have instantly adopted, without considering the place 
in which the previous account had left Jesus, which was Caesarea 
Philippi ; hereafter described as in the farthest northern part of 
Galilee. Now, Mount Tabor, however desirable in other partic- 
ulars, as the scene of a great event in the life of Jesus, was full 
seventy miles south of the place where Jesus had the conversa- 
tion with his disciples, which led to the remarkable display which 
followed a few days after, on the mountain. It is true, that the 
intervening period of a week, was sufficient to enable him to 
travel this distance with ease ; but the difficulty is, to assign some 
possible necessity or occasion for such a journey. Certainly, he 
needed not to have gone thus far to find a mountain, for Caesarea 
Philippi itself stands by the base of Paneas, which is a part 
of the great Syrian range of Antilibanus. This great mount- 
ain, or mountain chain, rises directly behind the city, and parts 
of it are so high above the peak of Tabor, or any other mountain 
in Palestine, as to be covered with snow, even in that warm coun- 
try. The original readers of the gospel story, were dwellers in 
Palestine, and must have been, for the most part, well acquainted 
with the character of the places which were the scenes of the 
incidents, and could hardly have been ignorant of the fact, that 
this splendid city, so famous as the monument of royal vanity 
and munificence, was near the northern end of Palestine, and of 
course, must have been known even by those who had never seen 
it, nor heard it particularly described, to be very near the great 
Syrian mountains ; so near too, as to be very high elevated above 
the cities of the southern country, since not far from the city 
gushed out the most distant sources of the rapid Jordan. But 
another difficulty, in respect to this journey of seventy miles to 
Tabor, is, that while the gospels give no account of it, it is even 
contradicted by Mark's statement, that after departing from the 



peter's discipleship. 69 

mountain, he passed through Galilee, and came to Capernaum, 
which is between Tabor and Caesarea Philippi, twenty or thirty 
miles from the former, and forty or fifty from the latter. Now, 
that Jesus Christ spared no exertion of body or mind, in " going 
about doing good," no one can doubt ; but that he would spend 
the strength devoted to useful purposes, in traveling from one end 
of Galilee to the other, for no greater good than to ascend a par- 
ticular mountain, and then to travel thirty miles back on the same 
route, is a most unnecessary tax upon our faith. But here, close 
to Caesarea Philippi, was the mighty range of Antilibanus, known 
in. Hebrew poetry by the name of Hermon in this part ; and He, 
whose presence made all places holy, could not have chosen, 
among all the mountains of Palestine, one which nature had better 
fitted to impress the beholder who stood on the summit, with 
ideas of the vast and sublime. Modern travelers assure us that, 
from the peaks behind the city, the view of the lower mountains 
to the south, — of the plain through which the young Jordan flows, 
soon spreading out into the broad sheet of lake Houle, (Samacho- 
nitis lacus,) and of the country, almost to lake Tiberias, is most 
magnificent. The precise peak which was the scene of the event 
here related, it is impossible to conjecture. It may have been any 
one of three which are prominent : either the castle hill, or, far- 
ther off and much higher, Mount Bostra, once the site of a city, 
or farther still, and highest of all, Merura Jubba, which is but a 
few hours walk from the city. The general impression of the 
vulgar, however, and of those who take the traditions of the vul- 
gar and the ignorant, without examination, has been, that Tabor 
was the scene of the event, so that, at this day, it is known among 
the stupid Christians of Palestine, by the name of the Mount of 
the Transfiguration. So idly are these foolish local traditions re- 
ceived, that this falsehood, so palpable on inspection, has been 
quietly handed down from traveler to traveler, ever since the cru- 
sades, when hundreds of these and similar localities, were hunted 
up so hastily, and by persons so ill-qualified for the search, that 
more modern investigators may be pardoned for treating with 
so little consideration the voice of stick antiquity, when it is found 
opposed to a rational and consistent understanding of the gospel 
story. When the question was first asked, " Where is the mount 
of the transfiguration T there were enough persons interested to 
reply, "Mount Tabor." No reason was probably asked for the 
decision, and none was given ; but as the scene was acted on a 

10 



TO Peter's disciple&hip, 

high mountain in Galilee, and as Tabor answered perfectly to thi§ 
very simple description and was moreover interesting on many 
other accounts, both historical and natural, it was adopted for the 
transfiguration without any discussion whatever, among those on 
the spot. Still, to learned and diligent readers of the gospels, the 
inconsistences of such a belief have been so obvious, that many 
great theologians have decided, for the reasons here given, that 
the transfiguration must have taken place on some part of Mount 
Paneas, as it was called by the Greeks and Romans, known among 
the Jews, however, from the earliest times, by the far older name 
of Mount Hermon. On the determination of this point, more 
words have been expended than some may deem the matter 
to deserve ; but among the various objects of the modern histo- 
rian of Bible times, none is more important or interesting, than 
than that of settling the often disputed topography of the sacred 
narrative ; and as the ground here taken differs so widely from 
the almost universally received opinion, the minute reasons were 
loudly called for, in justification of the author's boldness. The 
ancient blunders here detected, and shown to be based only upon 
a guess, is a very fair specimen of the way in which, in the moral 
as in the natural sciences, " they all copy from one another," 
Avithout taking pains to look into the truth of small matters. 
And it seems to show, moreover, how, when men of patient and 
zealous accuracy, have taken the greatest pains to expose and cor- 
rect so causeless an error, common readers and writers too, will 
carelessly and lazily slip back into the old blunder, thus making 
the counsels of the learned of no effect, and loving darkness ra- 
ther than light, error rather than exactness, because they are too 
shiftless to find a good reason for what is laid down before them 
as truth. But so it is. It is. and always has been, and always 
will be, so much easier for men to swallow whole, or reject whole, 
the propositions made to them, that the vast majority had much 
rather believe on other people's testimony, than go through the 
harassing and tiresome task, of looking up the proofs for them- 
selves. In this very instance, this important topographical blun- 
der was fully exposed and corrected a century and a half ago, by 
Lightfoot, the greatest Hebrew scholar that ever lived ; and we 
see how much wiser the world is for his pains. 

Caesar ea Philippi. — This city stood where all the common maps place it, in the 
farthest northern part of Palestine, just at the foot of the mountains, and near the 
fountain head of the Jordan. The name by which it is called in the gospels, is 
another instance, like Julias Bethsaida, of a compliment paid by the servile kings, of 



PETERS DISCIPLESHIP. 71 

ttie divisions of Palestine, to their imperial masters, who had given, and who at any 
time could take away, crown and kingdom from them. The most ancient name by 
which this place is known to have been mentioned in the Hebrew scriptures, isLasha, 
in Genesis x. 19, afterwards variously modified into Leskem, (Joshua xix. 47,) and 
Laish, (Judges xviii. 7 : xiv. 29,) a name somewhat like the former in sound, though 
totally different in meaning, ( 0tt6 leshem, " a precious stone," and w 1 ) laish, " a 
lion,") undoubtedly all three being from the same root, but variously modified in the 
changing pronunciations of different ages and tribes. In the earliest passage, (Gen. 
x. 19,) it is clearly described as on the farthest northern limit of the land of Canaan, 
and afterwards, being conquered long after most of the cities of that region, by the 
tribe of Dan, and receiving the name of this tribe, as an addition to its former one, 
it became proverbially known under the name of Dan, as the farthest northern point 
of the land of Israel, as Beersheba was the southern one. It did not, however, lose 
its early Canaanitish name till long after, for, in Isaiah x. 30, it is spoken of under 
the name of Laish, as the most distant part of Israel, to which the cry of the dis- 
tressed could reach. It is also mentioned under its later name of Dan, in Gen. xiv. 
14, and Deut. xxxiv. 1, where it is given by the writer, or some copyist, in anticipa- 
tion of the subsequent account of its acquiring this name after the conquest. Jose- 
phus also mentions it, under this name, in Ant. book i. chap. 10, and book viii. chap. 
8, sect. 4, in both which places he speaks of it as standing at one of the sources of the 
Jordan, from which circumstance, no doubt, the latter part of the river's name is de- 
rived. After the overthrow of the Israelitish power in that region, it fell into the 
hands of new possessors, and under the Greeks and Romans, went by the name of 
Panias, (Josephus and Ptolemy,) or Paneas, (Josephus and Pliny,) which name, ac- 
cording to Ptolemy, it had under the Phoenicians. This name, supposed to have 
been taken from the Phoenician name of the mountain near, Josephus gives to it, in all 
the later periods of his history, until he speaks of the occasion on which it received 
a new change of name. 

Its commanding and remarkable position, on the extremity of Palestine, made it a 
frontier post of some importance ; and it was therefore a desirable addition to the 
dominions of Herod the Great, who received it from his royal patron, Augustus 
Caesar, along with its adjacent region "between Galilee and Trachonitis, after the 
death of Zenodorus, its former possessor. (Jos. Ant. book xv. chap. 10, sect. 3.) 
Herod the Great, out of gratitude for this princely addition to his dominions, at a 
time when attempts were made to deprive him of his imperial master's favor, raised 
near this cit)^, a noble monument to Augustus. (Jos. as above quoted.) " He built 
a monument to him, of white marble, in the land of Zenodorus, near Panium. There 
is a beautiful cave in the mountain, and beneath it there is a chasm, in the earth, rug- 
ged, and of immense depth, full of still water, and over it hangs a vast mountain ; 
and under the cave rise the_ springs of the Jordan. This place, already very fa- 
mous, he adorned with the temple which he consecrated to Caesar." A lofty tem- 
ple of white marble, on such a high spot, contrasted with the dark rocks of the moun- 
tain and cave around, must have been a splendid object in the distance, and a place 
of frequent resort. 

This city, along with the adjacent provinces, after the death of the first Herod, was 
given to his son Philip, made tetrarch of Iturea and Trachonitis. This prince, out 
of gratitude to the royal donor, at the same time when he rebuilt and repaired Beth- 
saida, as already mentioned, " also embellished Paneas, at the fountains of the Jor- 
dan, and gave it the name of Caesarea." (Jos. Ant. book xviii. chap. 2, sect. 1, also 
Jewish War, book ii. chap. 9, sect. 1,) and to distinguish it from other Caesareas, 
hereafter to be mentioned, it was called from the name of its royal builder, Caesarea 
Philippi, that is, " the Caesarea of Philip." By this name it was most commonly 
known in the time of Christ; but it did not answer the end of perpetuating the name 
of its builder and his patron, for it shortly afterwards recovered its former name, 
Paneas, which, probably, never went ivholly out of use. As late as the time of 
Pliny, (about A. D. 70,) Paneas was a part of the name of Caesarea. Fons Paneas, 
qui cognomen dedit Caesareae, "the fountain Paneas, which gave to Caesarea a sur- 
name." (Plin. Nat Hist, book v. chap. 15,) which shows, that at that time, the name 
Paneas was one, by which even foreign geographers recognized this city, in spite of 
the imperial dignity of its new title. Eusebius, (about A. D. 315,) speaks of " Cae- 
sarea Philippi, which the Phoenicians call Paneas, at the foot of mount Panium." 

(•ttWn-ou Kaiaapeia V YlaveaSa Voivikcs rpoaayopevui, &C. Ecc. Hist, book vii. chap. 17.) 

Jerome, (about A. D. 392,) never mentions the name Caesarea Philippi, as belonging 



72 peter's discipleshjp. 

to this city, except in commenting on Matt. xvi. 13, where he finds it necessary to 
explain this name, as an antiquated term, then out of use. Caesaream Philippi, quae 
nunc dicitur Paneas, " Caesarea Philippi, which is now called Paneas;" and in all the 
other places where he has occasion to mention the place, he gives it only the name of 
Paneas. Thus, in commenting on Amos viii. 14, he says, " Dan, on the boundary of 
the Jewish territory, where now is Paneas." And on Jerem. iv. 15, — " The tribe 
Dan, near mount Lebanon, and the city which is now called Paneas," &c. — See also 
commentary on Daniel xiii. 16. 

After the death of Philip, this city, along with the rest of his dominions, was pre- 
sented by Cains Caligula to Agrippa, who added still farther to the improvements 
made by Philip, more particularly ornamenting the Panium, or famous source of the 
Jordan, near the city, as Josephus testifies. (Jewish War, book iii. chap. 9, sect. 7.) 
" The natural beauty of the Panium, moreover, was still more highly adorned (irpoa- 
c^rjaKTiTai) with royal magnificence, being embellished by the wealth of Agrippa." 
This king also attempted to perpetuate the name of one of his imperial patrons, in 
connection with the city, calling it Neronias, in honor oi one who is well enough 
known without this aid. (Jos. Ant. book xx. chap. 8, sect. 3.) The perfectly tran- 
sient character of this idle appellation, is abundantly shown from the preceding co- 
pious quotations. 

The city, now called Banias, (not Belinas, as Wahl erroneously says,) has been 
visited and examined in modem times by several travelers, of whom, none has de- 
scribed it more minutely than Burckhardt. His account of the mountains around 
the city, so finely illustrates my description of the scene of the transfiguration, that I 
extract largely from it here. In order to apprecia-te the description fully, it must be 
understood that Ilcish is now the general Arabic name for the mountain chain, which 
was by ancient authors variously called Lebanon, Libanus, Anti-Libanus, Hermon, 
and Panium ; for all these names have been given to the mountain-range, on whose 
slope Caesarea Philippi, or Paneas, stood. 

" The district of Banias is classic ground ; it is the ancient Caesarea Philippi ; 
the lake Houle, is the Lacus Samachonitis. Immediately after my arrival, I took a 
man of the village to shew me the way to the ruined castle of Banias, which bears 
E. by S. from it. It stands on the top of a mountain, which forms part of the moun- 
tain of Heish, at an hour and a quarter from Banias ; it is now in complete ruins, but 
was once a very strong fortress. Its whole circumference is twenty-five minutes. It 
is surrounded by a wall ten feet thick, flanked with numerous round towers, built 
with equal blocks of stone, each about two feet square. The keep, or citadel, seems 
to have been on the highest summit, on the eastern side, where the walls are stronger 
than on the lower, or western side. The view from thence over the Houle and a 
part of its lake, the Djebel Safad, and the barren Heish, is magnificent. On the 
western side, within the precincts of the castle, are ruins of many private habita- 
tions. At. both the western corners, runs a succession of dark, strongly built, low 
apartments, like cells, vaulted, and with small narrow loop holes, as if for mus- 
quetry. On this side also, is a well more than twenty feet square, walled in, with a 
vaulted roof at least twenty-five feet high ; the well was, even in this dry season, full 
of water : there are three others in the castle. There are many apartments and re- 
cesses in the castle, which could only be exactly described by a plan of the whole 
building. It seems to have been erected during the period of the crusades, and must 
certainly have been a very strong hold to those who possessed it. I could discover no 
traces of a road or paved way leading up the mountain to it. In winter time, the 
shepherds of the Felahs of the Heish, w 7 ho encamp upon the mountains, pass the 
night in the castle with their cattle. 

"Banias is situated at the foot of the Heish, in the plain, which in the immediate 
vicinity of Banias is not called Ard Houle, but Ard Banias. It contains about one 
hundred and fifty houses, inhabited mostly fey Turks: there are also Greeks, Druses, 
and Enzairie. It belongs to Hasbeya, whose Emir nominates the Sheikh. On the 
N. E. side of the village, is the source of the river of Banias, which empties itself 
into the Jordan at the distance of an hour and a half, in the plain below. Over the 
source is a perpendicular rock, in which several niches have been cut to receive 
statues. The largest niche is above a spacious cavern, under which the river rises. 
This niche is six feet broad and as much in depth, and has a smaller niche in the 
bottom of it. Immediately above it, in the perpendicular face of the rock, is another 
niche, adorned with pilasters, supporting a shell ornament. 

" Round the source of the river are a number of hewn stones. The stream flow^s 



PETERS DISCIFLESHIP. t «> 

on the north side of the village, where is a well built bridge, and some remains of 
the ancient town, the principal part of which seems, however, to have been on the 
opposite side of the river, where the rains extend for a quarter of an hour from the 
bridge. No walls remain, but great quantities of stones and architectural fragments 
are scattered about. ,.-,.,• , , 

" J went to see the ruins of the ancient city of Bostra, of which the people spoke 
much. Bostra must not be confounded with Boszra, in the Haouran ; both places are 
mentioned in the Books of Moses. The way to the ruins lies for an hour and a half 
in the road by which I came from Rasheyat-el-Fukhar, it then ascends for three 
quarters of an hour a steep mountain to the right, on the top of which is the city ; it 
is divided into two parts, the largest being upon the very summit, the smaller at ten 
minutes walk lower down, and resembling a suburb to the upper part. Traces are 
still visible of a paved way that had connected the two divisions. There is scarcely 
any thing in the ruins worth notice; they consist of the foundations of private habi- 
tations, built of moderate sized square stones. The lower city is about twelve min- 
utes walk in circumference; a part of the four walls of one building only remains 
entire ; in the midst of the ruins was a well, at this time dried up. The circuit of 
the upper city may be about twenty minutes ; in it are the remains of several build- 
ings. In the highest part is a heap of wrought stones, of larger dimensions tha.n the 
rest, which seem to indicate that some public building had once stood on the spot. 
There are several columns of one foot, and of one foot and a half in diameter. In 
two different places, a short column was standing in the centre of a round paved 
area of about ten feet in diameter. There is likewise a deep well, walled in, but 
now dry. 

"The country around these ruins is very capable of cultivation. Near the lower 
city are groups of olive trees. 

" I descended the mountain in the direction towards the source of the Jordan, and 
passed, at the foot of it, the miserable village of Kerwaya. Behind the mountain of 
Bostra is another, still higher, called Djebe] Meroura Djoubba." [Burckhardt's Sy- 
ria, pp. 37—42.] 

From Conder's Modern Traveler I also draw a sketch of other travelers' observa- 
tions on the place and the surrounding country. 

" Burckhardt, in coming from Damascus, pursued the more direct route taken by 
the caravans, which crosses the Jordan at Jacob's Bridge. Captains Irby and Man- 
gles left this road at Khan Sasa, and passed to the westward for Panias, thus striking 
between the road to Acre, and that by Raschia and Hasbeya. The first part of the 
road from Sasa, led through a fine plain, watered by a pretty, winding rivulet, with 
numerous tributary streams, and many old ruined mills. It then ascended over a ve- 
ry rugged and rocky soil, quite destitute of vegetation, having in some places traces- 
of an ancient paved way, 'probably the Roman road from Damascus to Caesarea 
Philippi.' The higher part of Djebel Sheikh was seen on the right. The road be- 
came less stony, and the shrubs increased in number, size and beautv, as they descend- 
ed into a rich little plain, at the immediate foot of the mountain. ' From this plain,' 
continues captain M., ' we ascended, and, after passing a very small village, saw on 
our left, close to us, a very picturesque lake, apparently perfectly circular, of little 
more than a mile in circumference, surrounded on all sides by sloping hills, richly 
wooded. On quitting Phiala, at but a short distance from it, we crossed a stream 
which discharges into the larger one which we first saw : the latter we followed for 
a considerable distance ; and then, mounting a hill to the S. W., had in view the great 
Saracenic castle, near Panias, the town of that name, and the plain of the Jordan, as 
far as the Lake Houle, with the mountains on the other side of the plain, forming al- 
together a fine coup d'ccil. As we descended towards Panias, we found the country 
extremely beautiful. Great quantities of wild flowers, and a variety of shrubs, jus! 
budding, together with the richness of the verdure, grass, corn and beans, showed us, 
all at once, the beauties of spring, (Feb. 24,) and conducted us into a climate quite 
different from Damascus. In the evening we entered Panias, crossing a causeway 
constructed over the rivulet, which flows from the foot of Djebel Sheikh. The river 
here rushes over great rocks in a very picturesque manner, its banks being covered 
with shrubs and the ruins of ancient walls.' 

" Panias, afterwards called Caesarea Philippi, has resumed its ancient name. The 
present town of Banias is small. Seetzen describes it as a little hamlet of about twen- 
ty miserable huts, inhabited by Mahomedans. The ' Castle of Banias' is situated on 
the summit of a lofty mountain : it was built, Seetzen says, without giving his au- 
thority, in the time of the caliphs." [Mod. Trav. Vol. I. pp. 353— 6.J 



74 

The distance, in time, from Mount Tabor to Caesarea Phihppi, may be conceived 
from the account given by Ebn Haukal. an Arabian geographer and traveler of the 
tenth century. He says " from Tibertheh (Tiberias, which is near Tabor) to Sur, 
(Tyre,) is one day's journey ; and from that to Banias, (Paneas,) is two day's easy 
journey." [Sir W. Ouseley's translation of Ebn Haukal's Geography, pp. 48, 49.] 

This was an occasion on which Christ did not choose to dis- 
play his glories to the eyes of the ignorant and impertinent mobs 
that usually thronged his path, drawn together as they were, by- 
idle curiosity, by selfish wishes for relief from various diseases, 
or by the determination to profit by the mischief, which almost 
always results from such a promiscuous assemblage. It may be 
fairly considered a moral impossibility, for such disorderly and 
spontaneous assemblies to meet, without more evils resulting, than 
can possibly be counterbalanced by the good done to the assembly 
as a whole, whatever it may be to individuals. So, at least, Je- 
sus Christ seems always to have thought, for he never encoura- 
ged such gatherings, and took every desirable opportunity of get- 
ting rid of them, without injury to themselves, or of withdrawing 
himself quietly from them, as the easiest way of dispersing them ; 
knowing how utterly hopeless must be the attempt to do any great 
good among such a set of idlers, compared with what he might 
do by private and special intercourse with individuals. It is wor- 
thy of note, that Matthew and all whose calls are described, were 
about their business. Thus, on an occasion already mentioned, 
when Jesus was walking by the sea of Galilee, with the simple 
object of doing most good, he did not seek among the multitude 
that was following him, for the devoted laborers whom he might 
call to the great work of drawing in men to the knowledge of the 
truth as revealed in him. No : he turned from all the zealous 
loungers who had left their business, if they had any, to drag 
about after the wonderful man who had attracted general atten- 
tion by his great and good deeds. He dispatched them as fast as 
possible with a few words of instruction and exhortation ; for though 
he did not seek these undesirable occasions, yet he would have 
been as much wanting in benevolence as in wis'dom, if, when 
all the evils of such a throng had occurred by the meeting, he had 
not hastened to offer the speediest antidote to the mischief, and 
the best compensation for the loss of time to the company, by giv- 
ing them such words of counsel, reproof, correction or encourage- 
ment, as, even when cast like bread upon the waters, or seed by 
the way side, might yet perchance, or by grace, " be found after 
many days," returning to the hands of the giver, in gratitude, by 



Peter's disciple&hip. 75 

springing up and bearing some fruit to the praise and giory of 
God. Having thus sent off the throng, he addressed himself to 
the honest men whom he had found quietly following their daily 
employments, and immediately performed with them there, and, 
as is evident, mainly for their benefit, a most remarkable miracle ; 
and when they had been thus impressed with his power and wis- 
dom, summoned them to his aid in converting the world ; sagely 
and truly judging, that those who had been faithful in few things, 
would be the best rulers over many things, — that they who had 
steadily and faithfully worked at their proper business, had the 
best talent and disposition for laboring in a cause which needed 
so much patient industry and steady application in its devotees. 
These were the men whom he hoped to make by his instructions, 
the successful founders of the Christian faith ; and these were the 
very men whom, out of thousands who longed for the honors of 
his notice, he now chose as the objects of his special instruction 
and commission, and called them apart to view the display of the 
most wonderful mystery of his life. 

Among these three favored ones, we see Peter included, and 
his name, as usual, first of all. By this it appears, that, however 
great his late unfortunate misapprehension of the character and 
office of Christ, and however he may have deserved the harsh 
rebuff with which his forward but well meant remonstrance was 
met ; still he was so far from having lost his Master's favor on 
this account, that he yet held the highest place in the favor of Je- 
sus, who had been moved by the exposure of his favorite's igno- 
rance, only to new efforts to give him a just and clear view of the 
important truths in which he was most deficient ; for after all, 
there was nothing very surprising in Peter's mistake. In pur- 
suance of this design, he took these three, Peter, James and John, 
with him, up into the high mountain peaks of Hermon, from 
which their eyes might glance far south over the land of Israel — 
the land of their fathers for ages on ages, stretching away before 
them for a vast distance, and fancy could easily extend the view. 
In this land, so holy in the recollections of the past, so sad to the 
contemplation of the present, were to begin their mighty labors. 
Here, too, bright and early, one of the three was to end his ; 
while his brother and friend were to spread their common Mas- 
ter's dominion over thousands and millions who had never yet 
heard of that land, or its ancient faith. Jesus Christ always sought 
the lonely tops of mountains, with a peculiar zest, in his seasons 



70 



PETERS DISCIFLESHIP. 



of retirement, as well as for the most impressive displays of his 
eloquence, or his miraculous power. The obvious reasons were 
the advantages of perfect solitude and security against sudden in- 
trusion ; — the free, pure air of the near heaven, and the broad 
light of the immense prospect, were powerful means of lifting the 
soul to a state of moral sublimity, equal to the impressions of 
physical grandeur, made by the objects around. Their most ho- 
ly historical associations, moreover, were connected with the tops 
of high mountains, removed from which, the most awful scenes 
of ancient miracle would, to the fancy of the dweller of moun- 
tainous Palestine, have seemed stripped of their most imposing 
aids. Sinai, Horeb, Moriah, Zion, Ebal, Gerizim and Tabor, were 
the classic ground of Hebrew history, and to the fiery mind of the 
imaginative Israelite, their high tops seemed to tower in a religious 
snblimity, as striking and as lasting as their physical elevation. 
From these lofty peaks, so much nearer to the dwelling place of 
God, his soul took a higher flight than did ever the fancy of the 
Greek, from the classic tops of Parnassus, Pel ion, Ida, or the sky- 
ish head of blue Olympus ; and the three humble gazers, who 
now stood waiting there with their divine Master, felt, no doubt, 
their devotion proportionally exalted with their situation, by such 
associations. It was the same spirit, that, throughout the ancient 
world, led the earliest religionists to avail themselves of these 
physical advantages, as they did in their mountain worship, and 
with a success just in proportion as the purity and sincerity of 
their worship, and the high character of its object, corresponded 
with the lofty grandeur of the place. 

" Not vainly did the early Persian make 
His altar the high places, and the peak 
Of earth-o'er-gazing mountains, there to seek 
The spirit, in whose honor shrines are weak, 
Upreared of human hands. Come and compare 
Columns and idol-dwellings, Goth or Greek, 
With nature's realms of worship, earth and air; 
Nor fix on fond abodes to circumscribe thy prayer." 

In such a scene, and inspired by such sympathies, were the 
chosen three, on this occasion. The bare details, as given in 
the three gospels, make it evident that the scene took place in the 
night, as will be shown in the course of the narrative ; and this 
was in accordance also with Christ's usual custom of choosing the 
night, as the season of solitary meditation and prayer. (Matt. xiv. 
23.) Having reached the top, he engaged himself and them in 
prayer. How solemn — how awful the scene ! The Savior of all, 



peter's discipleship. 77 

afar from the abodes of men, from the sound and sight of human 
cares and sins, alone with his chosen three, on the vast mountains, 
with the world as far beneath their eyes as its thoughts were be- 
low their minds; — in the silence of the night, with the lights of the 
city and villages faintly gleaming in the distance on the lower 
hills and the plain, — with no sound near them but the murmur- 
ing of the night wind about the rocks,— with the dark canopy of 
gathering clouds above them,— Jesus prayed. His voice went up 
from this high altar of earth's wide temple to the throne of his 
Father, to whom he commended in words of supplication, those 
who were to labor for him when his earthly work should cease. 
We may well suppose that the substance of his prayer was, that 
their thoughts, before so groveling, and now so devotedly cling- 
ing to visions of earthly dominion and personal aggrandizement, 
might " leave all meaner things, to low ambition and the pride of 
kings," and might rise, as on that high peak, from earth towards 
heaven, to the just sense of the far higher efforts and honors to 
which they were destined. With their thoughts and feelings thus 
kindled with the holy associations of the hour, the place and the 
person, their souls must have risen with his in that solemn and 
earnest supplication, and their prayers for new devotion and ex- 
altation of spirit must have been almost equally ardent. Probably 
some hours were passed in this employment, varied perhaps by the 
eloquent and pointed instructions given by Jesus, to prepare these 
chiefs of the apostolic band, for the full understanding of the na- 
ture of his mission and theirs. How vastly important to their suc- 
cess in their labors, and to their everlasting happiness, must these 
prayers and instructions have been ! The three hearers, we may 
presume, gave for a long time the most devoted attention which a 
scene so impressive could awaken ; but yet they were men, and 
weary ones too, for they had come a considerable distance up a 
very steep way, and it was now late at night, — no doubt long past 
their bed-time. The exercise which their journey to the spot had 
given them, was of a kind for which their previous habits of life 
had quite unfitted them. They were all fishermen, and had dwelt 
all their lives in the low flat country on the shores of lake Tibe- 
rias and the valley of the Jordan, where they had nothing to do 
with climbing hills. And though their constant habits of hard 
labor must have made them stout men in their vocation, yet we 
all know that the muscles called into action by the management 
of the boat and net, are very different from those which support 

11 



78 

and advance a man in ascending acclivities. Every one that has 
noticed the sturdy arms and slender legs of most sailors, have had 
the practical proof, that a man may work all his life at pulling the 
seine and drag-net, hauling the ropes of a vessel, and tugging at 
the oar, without being thereby, in the slightest degree, fitted for 
labors of a different character. The work of toiling up a very 
high, steep mountain, then, was such as all their previous habits 
of life had wholly unfitted them for, and their over-stretched limbs 
and bodies must have been both sore and weary, so that when 
they came to a resting place, they very naturally were disposed to 
repose, and must have felt drowsy. In short, they fell asleep ; 
and that too, as it would appear, in the midst of the prayers and 
counsels of their adorable Lord. And yet who, that considers all 
the reasons above given, can wonder ? for it is very possible for a 
man to feel the highest interest in a subject offered to his consid- 
eration, — an interest, too, which may for a long time enable a 
zealous mind to triumph over bodily incapacity, — yet there is a 
point beyond which the most intense energy of mind cannot drag 
the sinking body, when fatigue has drained its strength, which 
nothing but sleep can renew. Men, when thus worn down, will 
sleep in the midst of a storm, or on the eve of certain death. In 
such a state were the bodies of the companions of Jesus, and thus 
wearied, they slept long, in spite of the storm which is supposed 
by many to have arisen, and to have been the immediate cause of 
some of the striking appearances which followed. It is said by 
many standard commentators, that the fairest accounts of such of 
the incidents as are connected with natural objects, is, that a tre- 
mendous thunder-storm came down upon the mountain while 
they were asleep, and that a loud peal bursting from this, was the 
immediate cause of their awaking. All the details that are given, 
certainly justify the supposition. They are described as sudden- 
ly starting from their sleep, in such a manner as would naturally 
follow only from a loud noise violently arousing the slumbering 
senses. Awakened thus by a peal of thunder, the first sight that 
struck their amazed eyes, was their Master, resplendent through 
the darkness of night and storm, with a brilliant light, that so shone 
upon him and covered him, as to change his whole aspect to a de- 
gree of glory indescribable. To add to their amazement and dread, 
they saw that he was not alone, but two mysterious and spiritual 
personages, announced to them as Moses and Elijah, were now 
his companions, having found means to join him, though high on 



Peter's djscipleship, 79 

the mighty rock, alone and in darkness, so inaccessible to human 
approach. These two ancient servants of God now appeared by 
his beloved Son, whose labors, and doctrines and triumphs were 
so far to transcend theirs, and in the hearing of the three apostles, 
uttered solemn words of prophecy about his approaching death, and 
triumph over death. The two sons of Zebedee were so startled 
as to be speechless, but the boldness and the talkativeness of Peter, 
always so pre-eminent, enabled him, even here, to speak his deep 
awe and reverence. Yet confused with half-awakened sleep, and 
stunned by the bursting thunder, he spoke as a man thus sudden- 
ly awaked naturally speaks, scarcely separating the thoughts of 
his dream, from the objects that met his opening eye. He said 
" Lord, it is good for us to be here ; and if thou wilt, let us make 
three tabernacles, (or resting places ;) one for thee, one for Moses, 
and one for Elijah." These things he said before his confused 
thoughts could fully arrange themselves into words proper to ex- 
press his feelings of awe, and he, half dreaming still, hardly knew 
what he said. But as he uttered these words, the dark cloud 
above them suddenly descended upon the mountain's head, in- 
wrapping and overshadowing them, and amid the flash of light- 
nings and the roar of thunders, given out in the concussion, they 
distinguished, in no human voice, these awful words, " This is my 
beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased ; hear ye him." Who 
can wonder that a phenomenon so tremendous, both morally and 
physically, overwhelmed their senses, and, that alarmed beyond 
measure, they fell again on their faces to the earth, so astonished 
that they did not dare to rise or look up, until Jesus came to them 
and reassured them with his friendly touch, saying " Arise and be 
not afraid." And lifting up their eyes, they saw no man any 
more, save Jesus only with themselves. The whole object of their 
retirement to this solitude being now accomplished, they prepared 
to return to those whom they had left to wonder at their strange 
absence. It was now probably about morning ; the storm was 
passed, — the clouds had vanished, — the thunder was hushed, and 
the cheerful sun now shone on mountain and plain, illuminating 
their downward path towards the city, and inspiring their hearts 
with the joyous emotions suited to their enlarged views of their 
Lord's kingdom, and their own duties. As they went down, Jesus 
charged them to tell no man what things they had seen, till he, 
the son of man, rose from the dead. And they kept it close, and 
told no man in those days any of those things which they had 



80 



PETERS DISCIPLESHIP. 



seen. But they questioned much with one another what the ri- 
sing from the dead should mean- So that it appears, that after all 
the repeated assurances Jesus had given them of the certainty of 
this event, they had never put any clear and definite meaning up- 
on his words, and were still totally in the dark as to their essen- 
tial import. This proof of their continued ignorance serves to 
confirm the view already taken of the way in which they under- 
stood, or rather misunderstood, the previous warning of the same 
event, in connection with his charge and rebuke of Peter. In con- 
nection also with what they had seen on the mountain, and the 
injunction of secrecy, another question arose, why they could not 
be allowed to speak freely on the subject. " For if they had now 
distinctly seen the prophet Elijah returned from the other world, 
as it appeared, why could they not properly announce publicly, so 
important and desirable an event ? Else, why did the Jewish teach- 
ers say that Elijah must first come before the Messiah ? And why, 
then, should they not freely offer their testimony of his presence 
with Jesus on this occasion, as the most satisfactory proof of his 
Messiahship ?" The answer of Jesus very clearly informed them 
that they were not to consider this vision as having any direct 
connection with the prophecy respecting Elijah's re-appearance, 
to precede and aid the true Messiah in the establishment of the 
ancient Jewish dominion ; but that all that was intended in that 
prophecy had been fully brought to pass in the coming of John 
the Baptist, who, in the spirit and power of Elijah, had already 
run his bright but brief course as the Messiah's precursor. With 
such interesting conversation they continued their course in re- 
turning towards the city. The way in which Luke here express- 
es the circumstances of the time of their return, is the last and 
most satisfactory proof to be offered of the fact, that their visit to 
the mountain had been in the night. His words are, " And it 
came to pass that on the next day, when they came down from 
the mountain, a large multitude met them," &c. This shows 
that they did not go and return the same day, between sunrise 
and sunset ; and the only reasonable supposition left to agree with 
the other circumstances, is, that they Avent at evening, and return- 
ed early in the morning of the next day. After their descent, they 
found that the remaining disciples had been making an unsuccess- 
ful attempt to relieve a lunatic person, who was relieved, however. 
at a word, as soon as brought to Jesus himself. They continued 
no very long time in this part of Galilee, after these events, but 



Peter's disci flesh ip. 81 

journeyed slowly southwards, towards the part which Jesus had 
formerly made his home. This journey was made hy him with 
particular care to avoid public notice, and it is particularly ex- 
pressed by Mark that he went on this homeward journey through 
by-ways or less public roads than usual. For as he went, he re- 
newed the sad warning, that he was in constant danger of being 
given up into the hands of the wicked men, who feeling reproved 
and annoyed by his life and doctrine, earnestly desired his death ; 
and that soon their malice would be for a time successful, but that 
after they had done their worst, he should at last triumph over 
them. Still this assurance, obvious as its meaning may now 
seem to us, was not understood by them, and though they puzzled 
themselves extremely about it, they evidently considered their ig- 
norance as of a somewhat justly blamabie nature, for they dared 
not ask for a new explanation. This passage still farther shows, 
how far they must have been from rightly appreciating his first 
declaration on this subject. Having followed the less direct routes, 
for these reasons, he came, (doing much good on the journey, no 
doubt, in a quiet and unnoticed way, as we know he always did,) 
to Capernaum, which he still regarded as his home ; and here 
again, as formerly, went directly to the house of Simon Peter, 
which he is represented as entering on his first arrival in the city, 
in such a way as to show that there was his dwelling, and a wel- 
come entertainment. Indeed we know of no other friend whom 
he had in Capernaum, with whom he was on such terms of in- 
timacy, and we cannot suppose that he kept house by himself,— 
for his relations had never yet removed from Nazareth. 

Of the scenes of the transfiguration, so great a variety of opinions have been enter- 
tained, that it would be impossible for me to discuss the various views within my nar- 
row limits. The old speculations on the subject are very fully given in Poole's Syn- 
opsis, and the modern ones by Kuinoel, who mentions a vast number of German wri- 
ters, of whom few of us have ever seen even the names elsewhere. 

The view which I have taken is not peculiar to me, but is supported by many high 
authorities, and is in accordance with what seemed to me the simplest and fairest 
construction which could be put upon the facts, after a very full and minute consider- 
ation of the various circumstances, chronologically, topographically and grammatic- 
ally. It should be noticed that my arrangement of the facts in reference to the time 
of day, is this. Jesus and the three disciples ascended the mountain in the evening, 
about sunset, remained there all night during a thunder-storm, and returned the next 
morning. 

THE TRIBUTE MONEY. 

On the occasion of his return and entrance into Peter's house, 
a new instance occurred both of his wisdom and his special regard 
for this apostle. Some of those who went about legally author- 
ized to collect the tax due from all conforming Jews, to defray the 



82 Peter's dtscipleship, 

expenses of the temple- worship at Jerusalem, appear to have been 
waiting for Christ's return from this journey, to call on him for his 
share, if he were willing to pay it as a good Jew. They seem to 
have had some doubts, however, as to the manner in which so 
eminent a teacher would receive a call to pay those taxes, from 
which he might perhaps deem himself exempted by his religious 
rank, more especially as he had frequently denounced, in the most 
unmeasured terms, all those concerned in the administration of 
the religious affairs of the Jewish nation. As soon as he had re- 
turned, therefore, they took the precaution to make the inquiry 
of Peter, as the well-known intimate of Jesus, " Doth not your 
Master pay tribute ?" Peter, knowing well the steady, open rever- 
ence which Jesus always manifested for all the established usages 
of his country, readily and unhesitatingly answered " Yes." And 
when he was come into the house, and was upon the point of pro- 
posing the matter to him, Jesus anticipated him, saying, " How 
thinkest thou, Simon ? of whom do the kings of the earth take cus- 
tom or tribute ? of their own children, or of the children of oth- 
ers ?" Peter says, "From others' children." Jesus says again to 
him, " Then are the children free." That is : " If, when the kings 
and rulers of the nations gather their taxes, for the support of their 
royal state and authority, they pass over their own children un- 
taxed, as a thing of course, then I, the son of that God who is the 
eternal king of Israel, am fairly exempt from the payment of the 
sum due from other Jews, for the support of the ceremonials of my 
Father's temple in Jerusalem." Still he did not choose to avail 
himself of this honorable pretext, but went on to tell Simon, 
" Nevertheless, lest we should give needless occasion for offense, 
we will pay what they exact ; and for this purpose, go thou to the 
sea, and take up the fish that comes up first; and when thou hast 
opened his mouth, thou shalt find a piece of money ; take that and 
give it them for me and thee." 

Anticipated him. — This word I substitute in the place of "prevented" which is the 
expression used in our common English Bible, and which in the changes of modern 
usage has entirely lost the signification which it had when the translators applied it 
to this passage. The Greek word here is -rporfSaosv, (proephtkasen,) and literally means 
" forespake" or " spake before" him. This was the idea which the English translators 
wished to express by the word "prevented " whose true original meaning is " antici- 
pated," or " was beforehand with him," being in Latin compounded of the words 
prae, "before," and venio, "eome." Among the numerous conveniences of Web- 
ster's improved edition of the Bible, for popular use, is the fact that in this and simi- 
lar passages he has altered the obsolete expression, and changed it for a modern 
one, which is just and faithful to the original idea. In this passage I find he has 
very properly given the word above suggested, without my knowledge of the coin- 
cidence. 



Peter's discipleship. 83 

Of the children of others. — This expression too is a variation from the common En- 
glish translation, which here expresses itself so vaguely, that a common reader can 
get no just idea whatever of the passage, and is utterly unable to find the point of the 
allusion. The Greek word is aAAorptwv, (allotrion,) which is simply the genitive plu- 
ral of an adjective, which means " of, or belonging to others," and is secondarily ap- 
plied also to "strangers, foreigners," &c, as persons "belonging to other lands;" but 
the primary meaning is absolutely necessary to be given here, in order to do justice 
to the sense, since the idea is not that they take tribute money of foreigners rather 
than of their own subjects; but of their subjects rather than of their own children, 
who are to enjoy the benefit of the taxation. 

A piece of money. — The term thus vaguely rendered, is in Greek vraTtjp, (stater,) 
which was a coin of definite value, being worth among the Jews about four attic 
drachms, and exactly equivalent to their shekel, a little more than half a dollar of 
federal money. The tax here paid was the half-shekel tax, due from every Jew for 
the service of the temple, so that the " piece of money," being one shekel, was just 
sufficient to pay for both Jesus and Peter. The word translated " the tribute money" 
(in verse 24) is equally definite in the Greek, — SiSpaxpov, (didrachmon,) equivalent to 
the Jewish half-shekel, and being itself worth half a slater. The stater, however, 
as a name for Attic and Byzantine gold coins, was equivalent to twenty or thirty times 
the value of the shekel. (See Stephens's Thes., Donnegan's, Jones's and Pickering's 
Lexicons.) On this passage see Hammond's Annotations, which are here quite full 
on values. See too, Lightfoot's Hor. Heb. on Matt. xvii. 25. Macknight's Paraphrase, 
Poole and Kuinoel, for a very full account of the matter. Also my note on page 32. 

There have been two different accounts of this little circumstance among commen- 
tators, some considering the tribute money to have been a Roman tax, and others 
taking the ground which I do, that it was the Jewish tax for the expenses of the tem- 
ple-worship. The reasons may be found at great length, in some of the authorities 
just quoted ; and it may be remarked that the point of the allusion in Jesus's question 
to Peter, is all lost on the supposition of a Roman tax ; for how could Jesus claim ex- 
emption as a son of the Roman emperor, as he justly could from the Jewish tax for 
the service of the heavenly king, his Father % The correspondence of values too, with 
the half-shekel tax, is another reason for adopting that view; nor is there any objec- 
tion to it, except the circumstance, that the time at which this tax is supposed to have 
been demanded, does not agree with that to which the collection of the temple-tax was 
limited. (Ex. xxx. 13, and Lightfoot on Matt. xvii. 24.) 

THE QUESTION OF SUPERIORITY. 

Soon after the last mentioned event, there arose a discussion 
among the apostles, as to who should have the highest rank in the 
administration of the government of the Messiah's kingdom, when 
it should be finally triumphantly established. The question shows 
how pitiably deficient they still were, in a proper understanding 
of the nature of the cause to which they were devoted ; but the 
details of this circumstance may be deferred to a more appropri- 
ate place, under the lives of the persons, who, by their claims, 
afterwards originated a similar discussion, in connection with 
which this may be most properly mentioned. However, it cannot 
be amiss to remark here, that the very fact of such a discussion 
having arisen, shows, that no one supposed that, from the pecu- 
liar distinctions already conferred on Peter, he was entitled to the 
assumption of anything like 'power over the rest of the twelve, 
or that anything else than a peculiar regard of Christ for him, 
and a confidence in his zeal and ability to advance the great 
cause, was expressed in his late honorable and affectionate decla- 



54 Peter's discipleship, 

ration to him. The occurrence of this discussion is also a high 
and satisfactory proof of Peter's modest and unassuming dispo- 
sition ; for had he maintained among the apostles the authority 
and rank which his Master's decided preference might seem to 
warrant, these high pretensions of the sons of Zebedee would 
not have been thus put forward against one so secure in Christ's 
favcr by high talents, and long habits of close intimacy, 

THE RULE OF BROTHERLY FORBEARANCE. 

The next occasion on which the name of Peter is mentioned 
in the gospels, is his asking Jesus, " how many times he should 
forgive an offending brother ? If the brother should repeat the 
offense seven times, should he each time accord him the forgive- 
ness asked?" This question was suggested to Peter's mind, by 
the rules which Christ had just been giving his disciples, for the 
preservation of harmony, and for the redress of mutual grievances 
among them. His charge to them on this subject, injoined the 
repeated exercise of forbearance towards a brother who had tres- 
passed, and urged the surrender of every imagined right of pri- 
vate redress, to the authority and sanction of the common assem- 
bly of the apostles. The absolute necessity of some such rule, 
for the very existence of the apostles' union, was plain enough. 
They were men, with all the passions and frailties of common, 
uneducated men, and with all the peculiar, fervid energy, which 
characterizes the physiology of the races of south-western Asia. 
From the constant attrition of such materials, no doubt individ- 
ually discordant in temperament and constitution, how could it 
be hoped, that in the common course of things, there would not 
arise frequent bursts of human passion, to mar or hinder the di- 
vine work which brought them together ? With a most wise 
providence for these liabilities to disagreement, Jesus had just 
arranged a principle of reference and quiet decision, in all cases 
of dispute in which the bond of Christian fellowship would be 
strained or broken. His charge to them, all and each, was this : 
" If thy brother shall trespass against thee, go and tell him his 
fault between thee and him alone. If he shall hear thee, thou 
hast gained thy brother ; but if he will not hear thee, take with 
thee on thy second call, one or two more, that, according to the 
standard forms of the Mosaic law, by the mouth of two or three 
witnesses every word may be established. And if he shall re- 
fuse to hear them, tell it at last to the common assembly of the 
apostles ; and after they have given their decision in favor of the 



peter's discipleship. 85 

justice of the complaint and demand, if he still maintain his 
enmity and wrong against thee, thou art no longer held by the 
apostolic pledge to treat him with brotherly regard ; but having 
slighted all friendly advice, and the common sentiment of the 
brethren, he has lost the privilege of their fellowship, and must 
be to thee as one of the low world around him — a heathen and 
an outcast Jew." On this occasion, also, he renewed to them all, 
the commission to bind and loose, which he had before particu- 
larly delivered only to Peter. As he had, in speaking of the 
treatment, made abundant requisitions for the exercise of forbear- 
ance, without mentioning the proper limit to these acts of for- 
giveness, Peter now put his question : " If my brother sin against 
me seven times, and as often make the reparation which I may 
honestly ask, shall I continue to forgive him ?" That is, " Shall 
I not seem, by these repeated acts of forbearance, at last to be 
offering him inducements to offend against one so placable 1 And 
if these transgressions are thus enormously multiplied, will it not 
be riofht that I should withhold the kind consideration which is 
made of so little account V The answer of Jesus is, -" I say to 
thee, not merely till seven times, but till seventy times seven." 
That is, " To your forbearance towards an erring and returning 
Christian brother, there should be no limit but his own obstinate 
adhesion to his error. In coming out from the world to follow 
me, you have given up your natural rights to avenge, either le- 
gally or personally, those injuries which pass the bounds of com- 
mon forbearance. The preservation of perfect harmony in the 
new community to which you have joined yourself, is of so much 
importance to the triumphant advancement of our cause, as to 
require justly all these sacrifices of personal ill-will." With his 
usual readiness in securing an abiding remembrance of his great 
leading rules of action, Jesus, on this occasion, concluded the sub- 
ject with illustrating the principle, by a beautiful parable or story ; 
a mode of instruction, far more impressive to the glowing imagi- 
nation of the oriental, than of the more calculating genius of 
colder races. 

This inquiry may have been suggested to Peter by a remark made by Christ, 
which is not given by Matthew as by Luke, (xvii. 4.) " If he sin against thee seven 
times in a day, and seven times turn again, &c. thou shalt forgive him." So Maldo- 
rat suggests, but it is certainly very hard to bring these two accounts to a minute har- 
mony, and I should much prefer to consider Luke as having given a general state- 
ment of Christ's doctrine, without referring to the occasion or circumstances, while 
Matthew has given a more distinct account of the whole matter. The discrepancy 
between the two accounts has seemed so great, that the French harmonists, New- 
come, LeClerc, Macknight, Thirlwall, and Bloomneld, consider them as referring to 

12 



86 Peter's discipleship, 

totally different occasions, — that in Matthew occurring in Capernaum, but thai in 
Luke, after his journey to Jerusalem to the feast of the tabernacles. But the utter 
absence of all chronological order in the greater part of Luke's gospel, is enough to 
make us suspect, that the event he alludes to may coincide with that of Matthew's 
story, since the amount of the precept, and the general form of expression, is the 
same in both cases. This is the view taken by Rosenmueller, Kuinoel, Vater, 
Clarke, Paulus, and which seems to be further justified by the consideration, that the 
repetition of the precept must have been entirely unnecessary, after having been so 
clearly laid down, and so fully re-examined in answer to Peter's inquiry, as given by 
Matthew, 

Seven times. — This number was a general expression among the Hebrews for a 
frequent repetition, and was perfectly vague and indefinite as to the number of re- 
petitions, as is shown in many instances in the Bible where it occurs. Seventy times 
seven, was another expression of the recurrences carried to a superlative number, 
and is also a standard Hebraism, (as in Gen. iv. 24.) See Poole, Lightfoot, Clarke, 
Scott, and other commentators, for Rabbinical illustrations of these phrases. 

A heathen and an metcast. — This latter expression I have chosen, as giving best the 
full force of the name publican, which designated a class of men among the Jews, 
who were considered by all around them as having renounced national pride, honor 
and religion, for the base purpose of worldly gain; serving under the Roman gov- 
ernment as tax-gatherers, that is, hiring the taxes of a district, which they took by 
paying the government a definite sum, calculating to make a rich profit on the bar- 
gain by systematic extortion and oppression. The name, therefore, was nearly 
synonymous with the modern word renegade, — one who, for base motives, has re- 
nounced the creed and customs of his fathers, 

THE JOURNEY TO JERUSALEM. 

The occurrence which occasioned this discussion, took place at 
Capernaum, where Jesus seems to have resided with his apostles 
for some time after his northern tour to Caesarea Philippi, giving 
them, as opportunity suggested, a great number and variety of 
practical instructions. At length he started with them, on his 
last journey to Jerusalem, the only one which is recorded by the 
first three evangelists, although John gives us accounts of three 
previous visits to the Jewish capital. On this journey, while he 
was passing on to Jerusalem, by a somewhat circuitous course, 
through that portion of Judea which lies east of the Jordan, he 
had taken occasion to remark, (in connection with the disappoint- 
ment of the rich young man, who could not give up his wealth 
for the sake of the gospel,) how hard it was for those that had 
riches, and put their trust in them, to join heartily in the promo- 
tion of the cause of Christ, or share in the honors of its success. 
Peter, then, speaking for himself and the faithful few who had 
followed Jesus thus far through many trials, to the risk and loss 
of much worldly profit, reminded Jesus of what they had given 
up for his sake. " Behold, we have forsaken all, and followed 
thee. What shall we have therefore ?" The solemn and gene- 
rous assurance of Jesus, in reply, was, that those who had fol- 
lowed him thus, should, in the final establishment of his king- 
dom, when he should receive the glories of his triumph, share in 



peter's discipl'eship* 87 

the highest gifts which he, conqueror of all, could bestow, Then, 
those who had forsaken kindred and lands for his sake, should 
find all these sacrifices made up to them, in the enjoyment of 
rewards incalculably beyond those earthly comforts in value. 

This conversation took place, just about as they were passing 
the Jordan, into the western section of Judea, near the spot where 
Joshua and the Israelitish host of old passed over to the conquest 
of Canaan. A little before they reached Jericho, Jesus took a 
private opportunity to renew to the twelve his oft repeated warn- 
ing of the awful events, now soon to happen after his entry into 
Jerusalem. " Behold, we go up to Jerusalem ; and the Son of 
Man shall be betrayed to the chief priests and to the scribes, and 
they shall condemn him to death. And they shall deliver him 
to the heathen, to mock, and to scourge, and to crucify him ; and 
the third day, he shall rise again." Yet, distinct as was this de- 
claration, and full as the prediction was in these shocking partic- 
ulars, Luke assures us, that " they understood none of these 
things ; and this saying was hid from them ; neither knew they 
the things which were spoken." Now, we cannot easily suppose 
that they believed that he, to whom they had so heartily and con- 
fidently devoted their lives and fortunes, was trying their feelings 
by an unnecessary fiction, so painful in its details. The only just 
supposition which we can make, then, is that they explained all 
these predictions to themselves, in a way best accordant with their 
own notions of the kingdom which the Messiah was to found, 
and on the hope of whose success they had staked all. The 
account of his betrayal, ill-treatment, and disgraceful death, they 
could not literally interpret, as the real doom which awaited their 
glorious and mighty Lord ; it could only mean, to them, that for 
a brief space, the foes of the Son of God were to gain a seeming 
triumph over the hosts that were to march against Jerusalem, to 
seat him on the throne of David. The traitorous heads of the 
Jewish faith, the members of the great Sanhedrim, the hypocrit- 
ical Pharisees, and the lying, avaricious lawyers, would, through 
cowardice, selfishness, envy, jealousy, or some other meanness, 
basely conspire to support their compound tyranny, by attempt- 
ing to crush the head of the new faith, with the help of their 
Roman masters, whom they would summon to the aid of their 
falling power. This unpatriotic and treacherous effort would 
for a time seem to be perfectly successful, but only long enough 
for the traitors to fill up the measure of their iniquities. Then, 



88 peter's discipleship. 

vain would be the combined efforts of priest and soldier, — of 
Jewish and of Roman power. Rising- upon them, like life from 
the dead, the Son of God should burst forth in the might of his 
Father, — he should be revealed from heaven with ten thousand 
angels ; and recalling his scattered friends, who might have been 
for a moment borne down before the iron hosts of Rome, he 
should sweep every foreign master, and every domestic religious 
tyrant, from Israel's heritage, setting up a throne, whose sway 
should spread to the uttermost parts of the earth, displacing even 
the deep-rooted hold of Roman power. What then, would be 
the fate of the faithful Galileans, who, though few and feeble, 
had stood by him through evil and good report, risking all on his 
success ? When the grinding tyranny of the old Sanhedrim had 
been overthrown, and chief priests, scribes, Pharisees, lawyers, 
and all, displaced from the administration, the chosen ones of his 
own early adoption, his countrymen, and intimate companions for 
years, would be rewarded, sitting on twelve thrones, judging the 
ransomed and victorious twelve tribes of Israel. Could they 
doubt their Lord's ability for this glorious, this miraculous achiev- 
ment ? Had they not seen him maintain his claim for authority 
over the elements, over diseases, over the dark agencies of the 
demoniac powers, and over the mighty bonds of death itself? 
And could not the same power achieve the still less wonderful 
victory over the opposition of these unworthy foes ? It was na- 
tural, then, that, with the long cherished hopes of these dazzling 
triumphs in their minds, the twelve apostles, though so often and 
so fully warned of approaching evils, should thus unsuspectingly 
persist in their mistake, giving every terrible word of Jesus such 
a turn as would best confirm their baseless hopes. Even Peter, 
already sternly rebuked for his forward effort to exalt the ambi- 
tion of Jesus, above even the temporary disgrace which he seem- 
ed to foreordain for himself, — and so favored with the private in- 
structions and counsels of his master, thus erred, — even James and 
John, also sharers in the high confidence and favor of Jesus, 
though thus favored and taught, were immediately after brought 
under his deserved censure for their presumptuous claims for the 
ascendency, which so moved the wrath of the jealous apostles, 
who were all alike involved in this monstrous and palpable mis- 
conception. Nor yet can we justly wonder at the infatuation to 
which they were thus blindly given up, knowing as we do, that, 
in countless instances, similar error has been committed on sim- 



Peter's discipleship. 89 



ilar subjects, by men similarly influenced. What Biblical com- 
mentary, interpretation, introduction, harmony, or criticism, from 
the earliest Christian or Rabbinic fathers, to the theological 
schemer of the latest octavo, does not bear sad witness on its 
pages, to the wonderful infatuation which can force upon the 
plainest and clearest declaration, a version elaborately figurative 
or painfully literal, just as may most comfortably cherish and con- 
firm a doctrine, or notion, or prejudice, which the writer would 
fain " add to the things which are written in the book ?" Can it 
be reasonably hoped, then, that this untaught effort to draw out 
the historical truth of the gospel, will be an exception to this 
harshly true judgment on the good, the learned, and the critical 
of past ages ? 

THE ENTRY INTO THE CITY. 

With these fruitless admonitions to his followers, Jesus passed 
on through Jericho to Bethphage, on the verge of the holy city. 
Here, the enthusiastic and triumphant rejoicings, which the pre- 
sence of their Master called forth, from the multitudes who were 
then swarming to Jerusalem from all parts of Palestine, must 
have lifted up the hearts of the apostles, with high assurance 
of the nearness of the honors for which they had so long looked 
and waited. Their irrepressible joy and exultation burst out in 
songs of triumph, as Jesus, after the manner of the ancient judges 
of Israel, rode into the royal seat of his fathers. And as he 
went down the descent of the Mount of Olives, to go into the 
city, the whole train of the disciples began to rejoice and praise 
God, with a loud voice, for all the mighty works that they had 
seen ; saying, " Blessed be the King of Israel, that cometh in the 
name of the Lord ! Peace in heaven ! Glory in the highest ! 
Blessed be the kingdom of our father David ! Hosanna !" 
These acclamations were raised by the disciples, and heartily 
joined in by the multitudes who knew his wonderful works, and 
more especially those who were acquainted with the very recent 
miracle of raising Lazarus. A great sensation of wonder was 
created throughout the city, by such a burst of shouts from a 
multitude, sweeping in a long, imposing train, with palm branches 
in their hands, down the mountain, on which they could have 
been seen all over Jerusalem. As he entered the gates, all the 
city was moved to say, " Who is this ?" And the rejoicing mul- 
titude said, " This is Jesus, the prophet of Nazareth in Galilee." 
What scorn did not this reply awaken in many of the haughty 



90 PETER 5 S DISCIPLESHIP. 

aristocrats of Jerusalem, to learn that all this solemn parade had 
been got up for no better purpose than merely to honor a dweller 
of that outcast region of mongrels, Galilee ! And of all places, 
that this prophet, so called, should have come from Nazareth ! A 
prophet from Galilee, indeed ! Was it from this half-heathen dis- 
trict, that the favored inhabitants of the capital of Judaism were 
to receive a teacher of religion ? Were the strict faith, and the 
rigid observances of their learned and devout, to be displaced by 
the presumptuous reformations of a self-taught prophet, from such 
a country ? Swelling with these feelings, the Pharisees could 
not repress a remonstrance with Jesus, against these noisy pro- 
ceedings. But he, evidently affected with pleasure at the honest 
tribute thus wrung out in spite of sectional feeling, forcibly as- 
serted the propriety and justice of this free offering of praise. 
"I tell you, that if these should hold their peace, the stones would 
immediately cry out." 

With palm-branches in their hands. — This tree, the emblem of joy and triumph in 
every part of the world where it is known, was the more readily adopted on this oc- 
casion, by those who thronged to swell the triumphal train of Jesus of" Nazareth, be- 
cause the palm grew along the way-side where they passed, and the whole moimt was 
hardly less rich in this than in the far famed olive from which it drew its name. A 
proof of the abundance of the palm-trees on Olivet is found in the name of the village 
of Bethany, , j , n n"D, (bcth-hcnc,) " house of dates," which shows that the tree which 
bore this fruit must have been plentiful there. The people, as they passed on with 
Jesus from this village whence he started to enter the city, would therefore find this 
token of triumph hanging over their heads, and shading their path every where with- 
in reach, and the emotions of jo} r at their approach to the city of God in the company 
of this good and mighty prophet, prompted them at once to use the expressive emblems 
which hung so near at hand ; and which were alike within the reach of those who 
journeyed with Jesus, and those who came forth from the city to meet and escort him 
in. The presence of these triumphal signs would, of course, remind them at once of 
the feast of the tabernacles, the day on which, in obedience to the Mosaic statute, all 
the dwellers of the city were accustomed to go forth to the mount, and bring home 
these branches with songs of joy. (Levit. xxiii. 40, Nehem. viii. 15, 16.) The re- 
membrance of this festival at once recalled also the beautifully appropriate words of 
the noble national and religious hymn, which they always chanted in praise of the 
God of their fathers on that day, (see Kuinoel, Rosenmueller, Wolf, &c.) and which 
was so peculiarly applicable to him who now " came in the name of the Lord," to 
honor and to bless his people. (Ps. cxviii. 26.) 

The descent of the Mount of Olives. — To imagine this scene, with something of the 
force of reality, it must be remembered that the Mount of Olives, so often mentioned 
in the scenes of Christ's life, rose on the eastern side of Jerusalem beyond the valley 
of the Kedron, whose bttle stream flowed between this mountain and Mount Moriah, 
on which the temple stood. Mount Olivet was much higher than any part of the city 
within the walls, and the most commanding and satisfactory view of the holy city 
which modern travelers and draughtsmen have been able to present to us in a pic- 
ture, is that from the more than classic summit of this mountain. The great north- 
ern road passing through Jericho, approaches Jerusalem on its north-eastern side, 
and comes directly over the top of Olivet, and as it mounts the ridge, it brings the 
holy city in all its glory, directly on the traveler's view. 

HosoMna.-T his also is an expression taken from the same festal hymn, (Ps. cxviii. 25,) 
*0~njTSPin (hoshia-na*) a pure Hebrew expression, as Drusius shows, and not Syri- 
ac, (See Poole's Synopsis on Matt. xxi. 9,) but corrupted in the vulgar pronunciation 
of this frequently repeated hymn, into Hosanna. The meaning of the Hebrew is 



peter's discipleship. 91 

"save him" or " be gracious to him," that is in connection with the words which fol- 
low in the gospel story, " Be gracious, O Lord, to the son of David." This is the same 
Hebrew phrase which, in the psalm above quoted, (verse 25,) is translated Save 
now." The whole expression was somewhat like the English " God save the king, 

^mzweth — This city, in particular, had an odious name, for the general low char- 
aeter of its inhabitants. The passage in John i. 46, shows in what estimation this city 
and its inhabitants were held, by their own neighbors in Galilee; and the great scorn 
with which all Galileans were regarded by the Jews, must have redoubled their con- 
tempt of this poor village, so despised even by the despicable. The consequence was 
that the Nazarenes acquired so low a character, that the name became a sort of by- 
word for what was mean and foolish. (See Kuinoel on Matt. ii. 23, John i. 46. Al- 
so Rosenmueller on the former passage and Bloomfield on the latter.) 

Galilee.— In order to appreciate fully, the scorn and suspicion with which the 
Galileans were regarded by the citizens of Jerusalem,, a complete view of their 
sectional peculiarities would be necessary. Such a view will hereafter be given in 
connection with a passage which more directly refers to those peculiarities, and more 
especially requires illustration and explanation. 

THE BLIGHTING OF THE FIG-TREE. 

Having thus, by his public and triumphant entrance into Jerusa- 
lem, defied and provoked the spite of the higher orders, while he 
secured an attentive hearing from the common people, when he 
should wish to teach them, — Jesus retired at evening, for the sake 
of quiet and comfort, to the house of his friends, Lazarus, Mary 
and Martha, at Bethany, in the suburbs. The next morning, as 
he was on his way with his disciples, coming back from this place 
to Jerusalem, hungry with the fatigues of his long walk, he came 
to a fig-tree, near the path, hoping to find fruit for his refresh- 
ment, as it seemed from a distance flourishing with abundance of 
leaves, and was then near the season of bearing. But when he 
came near, he found nothing but leaves on it, for it was some- 
what backward, and its time of producing figs was not yet. And 
Jesus, seizing the opportunity of this disappointment to impress 
his disciples with his power, personifying the tree, denounced de- 
struction against it. " May no man eat fruit of thee hereafter, 
forever." And his disciples heard it. They returned to Betha- 
ny, as usual, that evening, to pass the night, — but as they passed, 
probably after dark, they took no notice of the fig-tree. But the 
next morning, as they went back to the city, they saw that it had 
dried up from the roots. Simon Peter, always ready to notice the 
instances of his Master's power, called out in surprise to Jesus, 
to witness the effect of his malediction upon its object. " Master, 
behold, the fig-tree which thou didst curse, is withered away." Je- 
sus noticing their amazement at the apparent effect of his words, 
in so small a matter, took occasion to turn their attention to other 
and higher objects of faith, on which they might exert their zeal 
in a spirit, not of withering denunciation and destroying wrath, 



92 PETER J S DlSCIFLESHIP. 

such as they had seen so tremendously efficient in this case, but 
in the spirit of love and forgiveness, as well as of the holy energy 
that could overthrow and overcome difficulties, not less than to 
uproot Mount Olivet from its everlasting base and hurl it into 
the sea. 

THE DISCUSSIONS WITH THE SECTARIES. 

The disciples steadily remained the diligent and constant at- 
tendants of their heavenly teacher, in his long and frequent sea- 
sons of instruction in the temple, where he boldly met the often 
renewed attacks of his various adversaries, whether Herodians, 
scribes, Pharisees or Sadducees, and in spite of their long-trained 
subtleties, beat them out and out, with the very weapons at which 
they thought themselves so handy. The display of genius, of 
taste, of learning, of ready and sarcastic wit, and of heart-search- 
ing acuteness, was so amazing and super-human, that these few 
days of open discussion established his divinely intellectual supe- 
riority over all the elaborate science of his accomplished oppo- 
nents, and at the same time secured the fulfilment of his destiny, 
by the spite and hatred which their repeated public defeats exci- 
ted in them. Imagine their rage. Exposed thus before the peo- 
ple, by whom they had hitherto been regarded as the sole deposita- 
ries of learning, and adored as the fountains of right, they saw all 
their honors and power, to which they had devoted the intense 
study of their whole lives, snatched coolly and easily from them, 
by a nameless, untaught pretender, who was able to hold them up, 
baffled and disgraced, for the amusement of the jeering multitude. 
Here was ground enough for hatred ; — the hatred of conceited 
and intolerant false learning, against the discerning soul that had 
stripped and humbled it; — the hatred of confident ambition against 
the heroic energy which had discomfited it, and was doing much 
to free a long enslaved people from the yoke which formal hypoc- 
risy and empty parade had long laid on them. And again, the 
intolerable thought that all this heavy disgrace had been brought 
on the learned body of Judaism by a Galilean ! a mere carpen- 
ter of the lowest orders, who had come up to Jerusalem followed 
by a select train of rude fishermen and outcast publicans ; — and 
who, not being able to command a single night's lodging in the 
city, was in the habit of boarding and lodging in a paltry suburb, 
on the charity of some personal friends, from which place he qui- 
etly walked in for the distance of two miles every morning, to tri- 
umph over the palace-lodged heads of the Jewish faith. From 



peter's discipleship, 93 

such a man, thus humbly and even pitiably circumstanced, such 
an invasion and overthrow could not be endured ; and his ruin 
was rendered doubly easy by his very insignificance, which now 
constituted the chief disgrace of their defeat. Never was cause 
more closely followed by its effect, than this insulted dignity was 
by its cruel vengeance. 

the prophecy of the temple's ruin. 
In preparing his disciples for the great events which were to 
take place in a few years, and which were to have a great influ- 
ence on their labors, Jesus foretold to them the destruction of the 
temple. As he was passing out through the mighty gates of the 
temple on some occasion with his disciples, one of them, admiring 
the gorgeous beauty of the architecture and the materials, with 
all the devotion of a Jew now visiting it for the first time, said 
to him, " Master, see ! what stones and what buildings !" To him, 
Jesus replied with the awful prophecy, most shocking to the na- 
tional pride and religious associations of every Israelite, — that 
ere long, upon that glorious pile should fall a ruin so complete, 
that not one of those splendid stones should be left upon another. 
These words must have made a strong impression of wonder on 
all who heard them ; but no farther details of the prophecy were 
given to the disciples at large. Not long afterwards, however, 
as he sat musingly by himself, in his favorite retirement, half-way 
up the Mount of Olives, over against the temple, the four most 
loved and honored of the twelve, Peter, James, John and An- 
drew, came to him, and asked him privately, to tell them when 
these things should be, and by what omen they should know the 
approach of the great and woful ruin. Sitting there, they had a 
full view of the enormous pile which rose in immense masses very 
near them, on the verge of mount Moriah, and was even terraced 
up, from the side of the slope, presenting a vast wall, rising from 
the depths of the deep ravine of Kedron, which separated the tem- 
ple from mount Olivet, where they were. It was morning when 
the conversation took place, as we may fairly guess, for this spot 
lay on the daily walk to Bethany, where he lodged ;— the broad 
walls, high towers, and pillars of the temple, were doubtless illu- 
minated by the full splendors of the morning sun of Palestine ; for 
Olivet was directly east of Jerusalem, and as they sat looking 
westward towards the temple, with the sun behind them, the rays, 
leaving their faces in the shade, would shine full and bright on 
all which crowned the highth beyond. It was at such a time, as 

13 



94 PETERS DfgClPLESlIfPvi 

the Jewish historian assures us, that the temple was seen in h& 
fullest grandeur and sublimity ; for the light, falling on the vast 
roofs, which were sheeted and spiked with pure gold, brightly pol- 
ished, and upon the turrets and pinnacles which glittered with the 
same precious metal, was reflected to the eye of the gazer with an 
insupportable brilliancy, from the million bright surfaces and 
shining points which covered it. Here, then, sat Jesus and his 
four adoring chosen ones, with this splendid sight before them 
crowning the mountain, now made doubly dazzling by contrast 
with the deep gloom of the dark glen below, which separated them 
from it. There it was, that, with all this brightness and glory 
and beauty before them, Jesus solemnly foretold in detail the aw- 
ful, total ruin which was to sweep it all away, within the short 
lives of those who heard him, Well might such words sink 
deep into their hearts, — words coming from lips whose perfect 
and divine truth they could not doubt, though the things now 
foretold must have gone wofully against all the dreams of glory, 
in which they had made that sacred pile the scene of the future 
triumphs of the faith, and followers of Christ. This sublime proph- 
ecy, which need not here be repeated or descanted upon, is given 
at great length by all the first three evangelists, and is found in 
Matthew xxiv. Mark xiii. and Luke xxi. 

The view of the temple. — I can find no description by any writer, ancient or modern, 
which gives so clear an account of the original shape of Mount Moriah, and of the 
modifications it underwent to fit it to support the temple, as that given by Josephus. 
(Jew. War, book V. chap, v.) In speaking of the original founding of the temple by 
Solomon, (Ant. book VIIL chap. iii. sec. 2,) he says, " The king laid the foundations 
of the temple in the very depths, (at the bottom of the descent,) using stones of a 
firm structure, and able to hold out against the attacks of time, so that growing into a 
union, as it were, with the ground, they might be the basis and support of the pile that 
was to be reared above, and through their strength below, easily bear the vast mass 
of the great superstructure, and the immense weight of ornament also ; for the weight 
of those things which were contrived for beauty and magnificence was not less than 
that of the materials which contributed to the highth and lateral dimension." In the 
full description which he afterwards gives in the place first quoted, of the later tem- 
ple as perfected by Herod, which is the building to which the account in the text re- 
fers, he enters more fully into the mode of shaping the ground to the temple. " The 
temple was founded upon a steep hill, but in the first beginning of the structure there 
was scarcely flat ground enough on the top for the sanctuary and the altar, for it was 
abrupt and precipitous all around. And king Solomon, when he built the sanctu- 
ary, having walled it out on the eastern side, (cKTeix^avros, that is, ' having built out a 
wall on that side' for a terrace,) then reared upon the terraced earth a colonnade ; 
but on the other sides the sanctuary was naked, — (that is, the wall was unsupported 
and unomamented by colonnades as it was on the east.) But in the course of ages, the 
people all the while beating down the terraced earth with their footsteps, the hill thus 
growing flat, was made broader on the top ; and having taken down the wall on the 
north, they gained considerable ground which was afterwards inclosed within the 
outer court of the temple. Finally, having walled the hill entirely around with three 
terraces, and having advanced the work far beyond any hope that could have been 
reasonably entertained at first, spending on it long ages, and all the sacred treasures 
accumulated from the offerings sent to God from the ends of the world, they reared 



PETERS DTSCIPLESHIP, V® 

ground it, both the tipper courts and the lower temple, walling the latter up, in the 
lowest part, from a depth of three hundred cubits, (450 feet,) and in some places more. 
And yet the whole depth of the foundations did not show itself, because they had 
greatly filled up the ravines, with a view to bring them to a level with the streets of 
die city. The stones of this work were of the size of forty cubits, (60 feet,) for the 
profusion'of means and the lavish zeal of the people advanced the improvements of the 
temple beyond account; and a perfection far above all hope was thus attained by per- 
severance and time. 

"And well worthy of these foundations were the works which stood upon them, h or 
all the colonnades were double, consisting of pillars twenty-five cubits (40 feet) in 
liighth, each of a single stone of the whitest marble, and were roofed with fretwork 
of cedar. The natural beauty of these, their high polish and exquisite proportion, 
presented a most glorious show; but their surface was not marked by the superfluous 
embellishments of painting and carving. The colonnades were thirty cubits broad, (that 
is, forty-five feet from the front of the columns to the wall behind them;) while their 
whole circuit embraced a range of six stadia, (more than three-quarters of a mile !) 
including the castle of Antonia. And the whole hypeihrvm '{vnai&pov, the floor of the 
courts or inclosures of the temple, which was exposed to the open air, there being no 
roof above it) was variegated by the stones of all colors with which it was laid," (ma- 
king a Mosaic pavement.) Seel. ******** 

" The outside of the temple too, lacked nothing that could strike or dazzle the mind 
and eye. For it was on all sides oveilaid with massy plates of gold, so that in the 
first light qf the rising sun, it shot forth a most fiery splendor, which turned away 
the eyes of those who compelled themselves (mid. iSm^tvowj) to gaze on it, as from 
the rays of the sun itself. To strangers, moreover, who were coming towards it, it 
shone from afar like a complete mountain of snow : for where it was not covered with 
gold it was most dazzlingly white, and above on the roof it had golden spikes, sharp- 
ened to keep the birds from lighting on it. And some of the stones of the building 
were forty-five cubits long, five high, and six broad;" — (or sixty-seven feet long, seven 
and a half high, and nine broad.) Sec. 0. 

"The Antonia was placed at the angle made by the meeting of two colonnades of 
the outer temple, the western and the northern. It was built upon a rock, fifty cubits 
high, and precipitous on all sides. It was the work of king Herod, in which, most of 
all, he showed himself a man of exalted conceptions." Sec. 8. * * * * 

In speaking of Solomon's foundation, he also says, (Ant. book VIII. chap. iii. sec. 9,) 
"But he made the outside of the temple wonderful beyond account, both in description 
and to sight. For having piled up huge terraces, from which, on account of their 
immense depth, it was hardly possible to look down, and reared them to the highth 
of four hundred cubits, (six hundred feet !) he made them on the same level with the 
hill's top on which the shrine (vaos) was built, and thus the open floor of the temple 
Qepov, or the outer court's inclosure) was level with the shrine." * * * * 

I have drawn thus largely from the rich descriptions of this noble and faithful de- 
scriber of the old glories of the Holy Land, because this very literal translation gives 
the exact naked detail of the temple's aspect, in language as gorgeous as the most 
high-wrought in which it could be presented in a mere fancy picture of the same 
scene ; and because it will prove that my conception of its glory, as it appeared to 
Christ and the four disciples who " sat over against it upon the Mount of Olives," is 
not overdrawn, since it is thus supported by the blameless and invaluable testimony of 
him who saw all this splendor in its most splendid day, and afterwards in its unequaled 
beauty and with all its polished gold and marble, shining and sinking amid the 
flames, which swept it utterly away from his saddening eyes forever, to a ruin the 
most absolute and irretrievable that ever fell upon the works of man. 

This was the temple on which the sons of Jonah and Zebedee gazed, with the aw- 
ful denunciation of its utter ruin falling from their Lord's lips, and such was the desola- 
tion to which those terrible words devoted it. This full description of its location shows 
the manner in which its terraced foundations descended with their vast fronts, six 
hundred feet into the valley of Kedron, over which they looked. To give as clear an 
idea of the place where they sat, and its relations to the rest of the scene, I extract 
from Conder's Modern Traveler the following description of Mount Olivet. 

" The Mount of Olives forms part of a ridge of limestone hills, extending to the 
north and the south-west. Pococke describes it as having four summits. On the 
lowest and most northerly of these, which, he tells us, is called Sulman Tashy, the 
stone of Solomon, there is a large domed sepulcher, and several other Mohammedan 



96 peter's djscjpleship, 

tombs. The ascent to this point, which is to the north-east of the city, lie describes 
as very gradual, through pleasant corn-fields planted with olive-trees. The second 
summit is that which overlooks the city : the path to it rises from the ruined gardens 
of Gethsemane, which occupy part of the valley. About half way up the ascent is a 
ruined monastery, built, as the monks tell us, on the spot where the Savior wept over 
Jerusalem. From this point the spectator enjoys, perhaps, the best view of the Holy 
City. (Here Jesus sat, in our scene.) 

" The valley of Jehoshaphat, which lies between this mountain and the hills on 
which Jerusalem is built, is still used as a burial-place by the modern Jews, as it was 
by their ancestors. It is, generally speaking, a rocky fiat, with a few patches of earth 
here and there, about half a mile in breadth from the Kedron to the foot of Mount Ol- 
ivet, and nearly of the same length from Siloa to the garden of Gethsemane. The 
Jews have a tradition, evidently founded on taking literally the passage Joel iii. 12, 
that this narrow valley will be the scene of the final judgment. The prophet Jere- 
miah evidently refers to the same valley under the name of the valley of the Son of 
Hinnom, or the valley of Tophet, the situation being clearly marked as being by the 
entry of the east gate. (Jer. xix. 2, 6.) Pococke places the valley of Hinnom to the 
south of Jerusalem, but thinks it might include part of that to the east. It formed part 
of the bounds between the tribes of Benjamin and Jtidah, (Jos. xv. 8. xviii. 16,) but the 
description is somewhat obscure." [Mod. Trav. Palestine, pp. 168, 172.} 

THE LAST SUPPER. 

Meanwhile the offended and provoked dignitaries of Judaism 
were fast making arrangements to crush the daring innovator, 
who had done so much to bring their learning and their power 
into contempt. Some of the most fiery spirits among them, were 
for defying all risks, by seizing the Nazarene openly, in the midst 
of his audacious denunciations of the higher orders ; and the at- 
tempt was made to execute this act of arbitrary power ; but the 
mere hirelings sent upon the errand, were too much awed by the 
unequaled majesty of the man, and by the strong attachment of 
the people to him, to be willing to execute their commission. But 
there were old heads among them, that could contrive safer and 
surer ways of meeting the evil. By them it was finally deter- 
mined to seize Jesus when alone or unattended by the throngs 
which usually encompassed him, — to hurry him at once secretly 
through the forms of law necessary for his coirmritment, and then 
to put him immediately into the hands of the Roman governor, as 
a condemned rioter and rebel, who would be obliged to order his 
execution in such a way as that no popular excitement would 
rescue the victim from the grasp of the soldiery. This was the 
plan which they were now arranging, and which they were pre- 
pared to execute before the close of the passover, if they could get 
intelligence of his motions. These fatal schemes of hate could 
not have been unknown to Jesus ; yet the knowledge of them 
made no difference in his bold devotion to the cause for which he 
came into the world. Anxious to improve the few fast fleeting 
hours that remained before the time of his sufferings should come 
on, and desirous to join as a Jew in this great national festival, 



peter"s disctpleship. 97 

by keeping it in form with his disciples, he directed his two most 
confidential apostles, Peter and John, to get ready the entertain- 
ment for them in the city, by an arrangement made with a man 
already expecting to receive them. This commission they faith- 
fully executed, and Jesus accordingly ate with his disciples the 
feast of the first day of the passover, in Jerusalem, with those 
who sought his life so near him. After the supper was over, 
he determined to use the brief remnant of time for the purpose 
of uprooting that low feeling of jealous ambition which had al- 
ready made so much trouble among them, in their anxious dis- 
cussions as to who should be accounted the greatest, and should 
rank as the ruler of the twelve. To impress the right view upon 
their minds most effectually, he chose the oriental mode of a cere- 
mony which should strike their senses, and thus secure a regard 
and remembrance for his words which they might fail in attain- 
ing if they were delivered in the simple manner of trite and oft 
spoken oral truisms. He therefore rose after supper, and leaving 
his place at the head of the table, he laid aside his upper gar- 
ments, which, though appropriate and becoming him as a teacher 
in his hours of public instruction, or social communion, were yet 
inconvenient in any active exertion which needed the free use of 
the limbs. Being thus disrobed, he took the position and charac- 
ter of a menial upon him, and girding himself with a towel, he 
poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples' feet in 
it. wiping them with his towel. He accordingly comes to Simon 
Peter, in the discharge of his servile office : but Peter, whose ideas 
of the majesty and ripening honors of his Master were shocked 
at this extraordinary action, positively refused to be even the pas- 
sive instrument of such an indignity to one so great and good, — 
first inquiring " Lord, dost thou wash my feet V Jesus in answer 
said to him, " What I do, thou knowest not now, but thou shalt 
know hereafter." That is, " this apparently degrading act has a 
hidden, useful meaning, at this moment beyond your comprehen- 
sion, but which you will learn in due time." Peter, however, 
notwithstanding this plain and decided expression of Christ's wise 
determination to go through this painful ceremony, for the in- 
struction of those who so unwillingly submitted to see him thus 
degraded, — still led on by the fiery ardor of his own headlong 
genius, — manfully persisted in his refusal, and expressed himself 
in the most positive terms possible, saying to Jesus, " Thou shalt 
never wash my feet." Jesus answered, " If I wash thee not, thou 



$8 peter's discjtpleship. 

hast no part with me." This solemn remonstrance had the effect 
of checking Peter's too forward reverence, and in a tone of deeper 
submission to the wise will of his Master, he yielded, replying 1 how- 
ever, " Lord, wash not my feet only, but also my hands and my 
head." Since so low an office was to be performed by one so ven- 
erated, he would not have the favor of his blessed touch confined 
to the baser limbs, but desired that the nobler parts of the body 
should share in the holy ablution. But the high purpose of Je- 
sus could not accommodate itself to the whims of his zealous dis- 
ciple ; for his very object was to take the humblest attitude before 
them, by performing those personal offices which were usually 
committed to slaves. He therefore told Peter, " He that is wash- 
ed needs not save to wash his feet, but is clean in every part ;" — a 
very familiar and expressive illustration, alluding to the circum- 
stance that those who have been to a bath and there washed them- 
selves, will on their return find themselves wholly clean, except 
such dust as may cling to their feet as they have passed through 
the streets on their return. And any one may feel the force of 
the beautiful figure, who has ever gone into the water for the 
purposes of cleanliness and refreshment, on a warm summer's day 
in this country, and has found by experience that after all possi- 
ble ablution, on coming out and dressing himself, his wet feet in 
contact with the ground have become loaded with dirt which de- 
mands new diligence to remove it ; and as all who have tried it 
know, it requires many ingenious efforts to return with feet as 
clean as they came to the washing; and in spite of all, after the 
return, an inspection may forcibly illustrate the truth, that " he 
that is washed, though he is clean in every part, yet needs to wash 
his feet." Such was the figure with which Jesus expressed to his 
simple-minded and unlettered disciples, the important truth, that 
since they had been already washed, (baptized by John or him- 
self,) if that washing had been effectual, they could need the re- 
purification only of their feet — the cleansing away of such of the 
world's impure thoughts and feelings as had clung to them in 
their journeyings through it. So, after he had washed their feet, 
and had taken his garments and sat down again, he said to them, 
" Know ye what I have done to you ? Ye call me Master and 
Lord ; and ye say well, for so I am. If I then, your Lord and 
Master, have washed your feet, ye also ought to wash one anoth- 
er's feet. For I have given you this as an example, that ye should 
do as I have done to you. Truly the servant is not greater than 



peter's discipleship. 90 

his lord, neither is he that is sent greater than him that sent him, 
If ye know these things, happy are ye if ye do them."— A charge 
so clear and simple, and so full, that it needs not a Avord of com- 
ment to show any reader the full force of this touching ceremony. 
Shortly after, in the same place and during the same meeting, 
Jesus speaking to them of his near departure, affectionately and 
sadly said, " Little children, but a little while longer am I with 
you. Ye shall seek me ; and as I said to the Jews, 'whither I go, 
ye cannot come,' — so now I say to you." To this Simon Peter 
soon after replied by asking him, " Lord whither goest thou ?" Je- 
sus answered him, " Whither I go thou canst not follow me now, 
but thou shalt follow me afterwards." Peter, perhaps beginning 
to perceive the mournful meaning of this -declaration, replied, still 
urging, " Lord, why cannot I follow thee now ? I will lay down 
my life for thy sake." Jesus answered, " Wilt thou lay down thy 
life for my sake ? I tell thee assuredly, the cock shall not crow 
till thou hast denied me thrice." — Soon after, at the same time 
and place, noticing the confident assurance of this chief disciple, 
Jesus again warned him of his danger and his coming fall. " Si- 
mon ! Simon ! behold, Satan has desired to have you (all) that 
he may sift you as wheat ; but I have prayed for thee (especially) 
that thy faith fail not ; and when thou art converted, strengthen 
thy brethren." Never before had higher and more distinctive 
favor been conferred on this chief apostle, than by this sad proph- 
ecy of danger, weakness and sin, on which he was to fall, for a 
time, to his deep disgrace ; but on him alone, when rescued from 
ruin by his Master's peculiar prayers, was to rest the task of 
strengthening his brethren. But his Master's kind warning was 
for the present lost on his immovable self-esteem ; he repeated his 
former assurance of perfect devotion through every danger, " Lord, 
I am ready to go with thee into prison and to death." Where was 
affectionate and heroic devotion ever more affectingly and deter- 
minedly expressed? What heart of common man would not have 
leaped to meet such love and fidelity ? But He, with an eye still 
clear and piercing, in spite of the tears with which affection might 
dim it, saw through the veil that would have blinded the sharp- 
est human judgment, and coldly met these protestations of burn- 
ing zeal with the chilling prediction again uttered, " I tell thee, 
Peter, the cock shall not crow this day, before thou shalt thrice 
deny that thou knowest me." Then making a sudden transition, 
to hint to them the nature of the dangers which would soon try 



loo 



PETERS DISCIPLE3HIP. 



their souls, he suddenly reverted to their former security. "When 
I sent you forth without purse, or scrip, or shoes, did ye need 
any thing ?" And they said " Nothing." Then said he to them 
"But now, let him that has a purse, take it, and likewise his 
scrip ; and let him that has no sword sell his cloak and buy one." 
They had hitherto, in their wanderings, every where found friends 
to support and protect them ; but now the world was at war with 
them, and they must look to their own resources both for supply- 
ing their wants and guarding their lives. His disciples readily 
apprehending some need of personal defense, at once bestirred 
themselves and mustered what arms they could on the spot, and 
told him that they had two swords among them, and of these it 
appears that one was in the hands of Peter. It was natural enough 
that among the disciples these tew arms were found, for they were 
•all Galileans, who, as Josephus tells us, were very pugnacious 
in their habits ; and even the followers of Christ, notwithstanding 
their peaceful calling, had not entirely laid aside their former 
weapons of violence, which were the more needed by them, as the 
journey from Galilee to Jerusalem was made very dangerous by 
robbers, who lay in wait for the defenseless traveler wherever the 
nature of the ground favored such an attack. Of this character 
was that part of the road between Jerusalem and Jericho, alluded 
to in the parable of the wounded traveler and the good Samari- 
tan, — a region so wild and rocky that it has always been danger- 
ous, for the same reasons, even to this day ; of which a sad in- 
stance occurred but a few years ago, in the case of an eminent En- 
glish traveler, who going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, fell 
among thieves and was wounded near the same spot mentioned by 
Christ, in spite of the defenses with which he was provided. It 
was in reference to such dangers as these, that two of his disciples 
had provided themselves with hostile weapons, and Peter may 
have been instigated to carry his sword into such a peaceful feast, 
by the suspicion that the danger from the chief priests, to which 
Christ had often alluded, might more particularly threaten them 
while they were in the city by themselves, without the safeguard 
of their numerous friends in the multitude. The answer of Jesus 
to this report of their means of resistance was not in a tone to ex- 
cite them to the very zealous use of them. He simply said, a It is 
enough," a phrase which was meant to quiet them, by expressing 
his little regard for such a defense as they were able to offer to 
him, with this contemptible armament. 



peter's discipleship. 101 

Some have conjectured that this washing of feet (page 97) was a usual rite at 
the Paschal feast. So Scaliger, Beza, Baronius, Casaubon and other learned men 
have thought. (See Poole's Synopsis, on John xiii. 5.) But Buxtorf has clearly 
shown the falsity of their reasons, and Lightfoot has also proved that it was a perfect- 
ly unusual thing, and that there is no passage in all the Rabbinical writings which 
refers to it as a custom. It is manifest indeed, to a common reader, that the whole 
peculiar force of this ablution, in this instance, consisted in its being an entirely un- 
usual act ; and all its beautiful aptness as an illustration of the meaning of Jesus, — 
that they should cease their ambitious strife for precedence, — is lost in making it any- 
thing else than a perfectly new and original ceremony, whose impressiveness mainly 
consisted in its singularity. Lightfoot also illustrates the design of Jesus still farther, 
by several interesting passages from the Talmudists, showing in what way the ablu- 
tion would be regarded by his disciples, who like other Jews would look upon it as a 
most degraded action, never to be performed except by inferiors to superiors. These 
Talmudic authorities declare, that " Among the duties to be performed by the wife 
to her husband, this was one, — that she should wash his face, his hands and his feet." 
(Maimonides on the duties of women.) The same office was due from a son to his fa- 
ther, — from a slave to his master, as his references show ; but he says he can find no 
precept that a disciple should perform such a duty to his teacher, unless it be included 
in this, " The teacher should be more honored by his scholar than a father." 

He also shows that the feet were never washed separately, with any idea of legal 
purification, — though the Pharisees washed their hands separately with this view, 
and the priests washed their hands and feet both, as a form of purification, but never 
the feet alone. And he very justly remarks upon all this testimony, that " the farther 
this action of Christ recedes from common custom, the higher its fitness for their 
instruction, — being performed not merely for an example but for a precept. (Light- 
foot's Hor. Heb. in ev. Joh. xiii. 5.) 

Laid aside his garments. — The simple dress of the races of western Asia, is always 
distinguishable into two parts or sets of garments, — an inner, which covered more or 
less of the body, fitting it tightly, but not reaching far over the legs or arms, and con- 
sisted either of a single cloth folded around the loins, or a tunic fastened Avith a gir- 
dle ; sometimes also a covering for the thighs was subjoined, making something like 
the rudiment of a pair of breeches. (See Jahn ;Arch. Bib. § 120.) These were the 
permanent parts of the dress, and were always required to be kept on the body, by the 
common rules of decency. But the second division of the garments, (superindumen- 
ta," Jahn,) thrown loosely over the inner ones, might be laid aside, on any occasion, 
when active exertion required the most unconstrained motion of the limbs. One of 
these was a simple oblong, broad piece of cloth, of various dimensions, but generally 
about three yards long, and two broad, which was wrapped around, the body like a 
mantle, the two upper corners being drawn over the shoulders in front, and the rest 
hanging down the back, and falling around the front of the body, without any fasten- 
ings but the folding of the upper corners. This garment was called by the Hebrews 
nSfliy or HdW, {simlah or salmah,) and sometimes "US ; (begedh';) — by the Greeks, 
lixariov. (himation.) Jahn Arch. Bib. This is the garment which is always meant by 
this Greek word in the New Testament, when used in the singular number, — trans- 
lated " cloak" in the common English version, as in the passage in the text above, 
where Jesus exhorts him that has no sword to sell his cloak and buy one. When this 
Greek word occurs in the plural, (Juana, himatia,) it is translated " garments," and it 
is noticeable that in most cases where it occurs, the sense actually requires that it 
should be understood only of the outer dress, to which I have referred it. As in Matt. 
xxi. 8, where it is said that the people spread their garments in the way, — of course 
only their outer ones, which were loose and easily thrown off, without indecent expo- 
sure. So in Mark xi. 7, 8 : Luke xix. 35. There is no need then, of supposing, as 
Origen does, that Jesus took off all his clothes, or was naked, in the modern sense of 
the term. A variety of other outer garments in common use both among the early 
and the later Jews, are described minutely by Jahn in his Archaeologia Biblica, § 122. 
I shall have occasion to describe some of these, in illustration of other passages. 
My exegesis on the passage " He that is washed, needs not," &c. may strike some as 
rather bold in its illustration, yet if great authorities are necessary to support the view 
I have taken, I can refer at once to a legion of commentators, both ancient and mod- 
ern, who all offer the same general explanation, though not exactly the same illustra- 
tion. Poole's Synopsis is rich in references to such. Among these, Vatablus remarks 
on the need of washing the feet of one already washed, " scil. viae causa" Medona- 

14 



10'^ PETER'S DISCIPLESH1P, 

chus says of the feet, H quos calcata terra iterum inquinat." Hammond says, he 
that hath been initiated, and entered into Christ, &c. is whole clean, and haih no need 
to be so washed again, ail over. All that is needful to him is the daily ministering of 
the word and grace of Christ, to cleanse and wash off the frailties, and imperfections, 
and lapses of our weak nature, those feet of the soul." Grotius says, "Hoc tantum 
opus ei est, ut ab iis se purget quae ex occasione nascuntur. Similitudo sumpta ab 
his qui a balneo niidis pedibus abewnt" Besides these and many others largely quoted 
by Poole, Lampius also (in com. in ev. Joh.) goes very fully into the same view, and 
quotes many others in illustration. Wolfius (in Cur. Philol.) gives various illustra- 
tions, differing in no important particular, that I can see, from each other, nor from 
that of Kuinoel, who calls them " contortas expositiones," but gives one which is the 
same in almost every part, but is more fully illustrated in detail, by reference to the 
usage of the ancients, of going to the bath betbre coming to a feast, which the disciples 
no doubt had done, and made themselves clean in all parts except their feet, which 
had become dirtied on the way from the bath. This is the same view which Wolf 
also quotes approvingly from Eisner, Wetstein is also on this point, as on all others, 
abundantly rich in illustrations from classic usage, to which he refers in a great 
number of quotations from Lucian, Herodotus, Plato, Terence and Plutarch. 

Sift you an wheat. — The word aivia^w (siniazo) refers to the process of icinno icing 
the wheat after threshing, rather than sifting in the common application of the 
term, which is to the operation of separating the flour from the bran. In oriental ag- 
riculture the operation of winnowing is performed without any machinery, by simply 
taking up the threshed wheat in a large shovel, and shaking it in such a way that the 
grain may fall out into a place prepared on the ground, while the wind blows away 
the chaff. The whole operation is well described in the fragments appended to Tay- 
lor's editions of Calmet's dictionary, (Hand. i. No. 48, in Vol. III.) and is there illus- 
trated by a plate. The phrase then, was highly expressive of a thorough trial of char- 
acter, or of utter ruin, by violent and overwhelming misfortune, and as such is often 
used in the Old Testament. As in Jer. xv. 7. " I will fan them with a fan," &c. Also 
inli. 3. In Ps. cxxxix. 2. " Thou winnowest my path," &c. ; com. trans. " Thou com- 
passestmy path." The same figure is effectively used by John the Baptist, in Matt. iii. 
12, and Luke iii. 17. 

Galilean pugnacity. — Josephus, who was very familiar with the Galileans by his 
military service among them, thus characterizes them. ' : The Galileans are fighters 
even from infancy, and are every where numerous, nor are they capable of fear." 
Jew. War. book III, chap. iii. sec. 2. 

From Jerusalem to Jericho. — The English traveler here referred to, is Sir Frede- 
ric Henniker, who in the year 1820, met with this calamity, which he thus describes 
in his travels, pp. 284 — "289. 

"The route is over hills, rocky, barren and uninteresting; we arrived at a foun- 
tain, and here my two attendants paused to refresh themselves ; the day was so hot 
that I was anxious to finish the journey, and hurried forwards. A ruined building 
situated on the summit of a hill was now within sight, and I urged my horse towards 
it ; the janissary galloped by "me, and making signs for me not to precede him. he rode 
into and round the building, and then motioned me to advance. We next came to a 
hill, through the very apex of which has been cut a passage, the rocks overhanging it 
on either side. Gtuaresmius, (lib. vi. c. 2.) quoting Brocardus, 200 years past, mentions 
that there is a place horrible to the eye, and full of danger, called Abdomin, which 
signifies blood ; where he, descending from Jerusalem to Jericho, fell among thieves. 
I was in the act of passing through this ditch, when a bullet whizzed by, close to my 
head ; I saw no one, and had scarcely time to think, when another was fired some dis- 
tance in advance. I could yet see no one, — the janissary was beneath the brow of the 
hill, in his descent; I looked back, but my servant was not yet within sight. I looked 
up. and within a few inches of my head were three muskets, and three men taking 
aim at me. Esca.pe or resistance were alike impossible. 1 got off my horse. Eight 
men jumped down from the rocks, and commenced a scramble for me ; I observed 
also a party running towards Nicholai. At this moment the janissary galloped in 
among us with his sword drawn. ********* 

" A sudden panic seized the janissary ; he cried on the name of the Prophet, and gal- 
loped away. As he passed, I caught at a rope hanging from his saddle. I had hoped 
to leap upon his horse, but found myself unable ; — my feet were dreadfully lacerated 
by the honey-combed rocks — nature would support me no longer — I fell, but still clung 
to the rope. In this manner I was drawn some few yards, till, bleeding from my an- 



PETE IVS DISCIPLESHJP, 1(>3 

ele to my shoulder, I resigned myself to my fate. As soon as I stood up, one of my 
pursuers took aim at me, but the other casually advancing between us, prevented his 
firing; he then ran up, and with his sword, aimed such a blow as would not have 
required a second; his companion prevented its full effect, so that it merely cut my 
ear iti halves, and laid open one side of my face ; they then stripped me naked. * * * 
" It was now past mid-day, and burning hot ; I bled profusely, — and two vultures, 
whose business it is to consume corpses, were hovering over me. I should scarcely 
have had strength to resist, had they chosen to attack me. At length we arrived 
about 3, P. M. at Jericho. — My servant was unable to lift me to the ground ; the jan- 
issary was lighting his pipe, and the soldiers were making preparations to pursue the 
robbers; not one person would assist a half- dead Christian. After some minutes a 
few Arabs came up and placed me by the side of the horse-pond, just so that I could 
not dip my finger into the water. This pool is resorted to by every one in search of 
water, and that employment falls exclusively upon females; — they surrounded me, 
and seemed so earnest in their sorrow, that, not withstau ding their veils, I almost felt 
pleasure at my wound. One of them in particular held her pitcher to my lips, till she 
was sent away by the Chous ; — I called her, she returned, and was sent away again; 
and the third time she was turned out of the yard. She wore a red veil, (the sign of 
not being married,) and therefore there was something unpardonable in her attention 
to any man, especially to a Christian ; she however returned with her mother, and 
brought me some milk. I believe that Mungo Park, on some dangerous occasion du- 
ring his travels, received considerable assistance from the compassionate sex." 

THE SCENES OF GETHSEMANE. 

After much more conversation and prayer with his disciples in 
the supper-room, and having sung the hymn of praise which 
usually concluded the passover feast among the Jews, Jesus went 
with them out west of the city, over the brook Kedron, at the 
foot of the Olive mount, where there was a garden, called 
Gethsemane, to which he had often resorted with his disciples, 
it being retired as well as pleasant. While they were on the way, 
a new occasion happened of showing Peter's self-confidence, 
which Jesus again rebuked with the prediction that it would too 
soon fail him. He was telling them all, that events would soon 
happen that would overthrow their present confidence in him, and 
significantly quoted to them the appropriate passage in Zecha- 
riah xiii. 7. " I will smite the shepherd, and the sheep shall be 
scattered." Peter, glad of a new opportunity to assert his stead- 
fast adherence to his Master, again assured him that, though all 
should be offended, or lose their confidence in him, yet would not 
he ; but though alone, would always maintain his present devo- 
tion to him. The third time did Jesus reply in the circumstantial 
prediction of his near and certain fall. " This day, even this 
night, before the cock crow twice, thou shalt deny me thrice." 
This repeated distrustful and reproachful denunciation, became, 
at last, too much for Peter's warm temper ; and in a burst of of- 
fended zeal, he declared the more vehemently, "If I should die 
with thee, I will not deny thee in any wise." To this solemn 
protestation against the thought of defection, all the other apostles 
present gave their word of hearty assent. 



104 PETER'S DISCIP1.ESHIP. 

They now reached the garden, and when they had entered it, 
Jesus spoke to all the disciples present, except his three chosen 
ones, saying, " Sit ye here, while I go and pray yonder." He re- 
tired accordingly into some recess of the garden, with Peter and 
the two sons of Zebedee. James and John ; and as soon as he was 
alone with them, begun to give utterance to feelings of deep dis- 
tress and depression of spirits. Leaving them, with the express 
injunction to keep awake and wait for him, he went for a short 
time still farther, and there, in secret and awful woe, that wrung 
from his bowed head the dark sweat of an unutterable agony, yet 
in submission to God, he prayed that the horrible suffering and 
death to which he had been so sternly devoted, might not light 
on him. Returning to the three appointed watchers, he found 
them asleep ! Even as amid the lonely majesty of Mount Hermon, 
human weakness had borne down the willing spirit in spite of the 
sublime character of the place and the persons before them ; so 
here, not the groans of that beloved suffering Lord, for whom they 
had just expressed such deep regard, could keep their sleepy eyes 
open, when they were thus exhausted with a long day's agitating 
incidents, and were rendered still more dull and stupid by the 
chilliness of the evening air, as well as the lateness of the hour of 
the night ; for it was near ten o'clock. At this sad instance of 
the inability of their minds to overcome the frailties of the body, 
after all their fine protestations of love and zeal, he mildly and 
mournfully remonstrates with Peter in particular, who had been 
so far before the rest in expressing a peculiar interest in his Mas- 
ter. And he said to Peter, " Simon ! sleepest thou ? What ! could 
ye not watch with me one hour? Watch ye and pray, lest ye 
enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh 
is weak." Well might he question thus the constancy of the fiery 
zeal which had so lately inspired Peter to those expressions of 
violent attachment. What ! could not all that warm devotion, that 
high pride of purpose, sustain his spirit against the effects of fa- 
tigue and cold on his body ? But they had, we may suppose, crept 
into some shelter from the cold night air, where they uncon- 
sciously forgot themselves. After having half-roused them with 
this fruitless appeal, he left them, and again passed through anoth- 
er dreadful struggle between his human and divine nature. The 
same strong entreaty, — the same mournful submission, — were ex- 
pressed as before, in that moment of solitary agony, till again he 
burst away from the insupportable strife of soul, and came to see 



peter's discipleship. 105 

if yet sympathy in his sorrows could keep his sleepy disciples 
awake. But no ; the gentle rousing he had before given them 
had hardly broken their slumbers. For a few moments the voice 
of their Master, in tones deep and mournful with sorrow, might 
have recalled them to some sense of shame for their heedless stu- 
pidity ; and for a short time their wounded pride moved them to 
an effort of self-control. A few mutual expostulations in a sleepy 
tone, would pass between them ; — an effort at conversation per- 
haps, about the incidents of the day, and the prospect of coming 
danger which their Master seemed to hint ; — some wonderings 
probably, as to what could thus lead him apart to dark and lone- 
ly devotion ; — very likely too, some complaint about the cold ; — 
a shiver — a sneeze, — then a movement to a warmer attitude, and 
a wrapping closer in mantles ;— then the conversation languish- 
ing, replies coming slower and duller, the attitude meanwhile de- 
clining from the perpendicular to the horizontal, till at last the most 
wakeful waits in vain for an answer to one of his drowsy remarks, 
and finds himself speaking to deaf ears ; and finally overcome 
with impatience at them and himself, he sinks down into his for- 
mer deep repose, with a half-murmured reproach to his compan- 
ions on his lips. In short, as every one knows who has passed 
through such efforts, three sleepy men will hardly keep awake 
the better for each other's company ; but so far from it, on the 
contrary, the force of sympathy will increase the difficulty, and the 
very sound of drowsy voices will serve to lull all the sooner into 
slumber. In the case of the apostles too, who were mostly men 
accustomed to an active life, and who were in the habit of going 
to bed as soon as it was night, whenever their business allowed 
them to rest, all their modes of life served to hasten the slumbers 
of men so little inured to self-control of any kind. These lengthy 
reasons may serve to excite some considerate sympathy for the 
weakness of the apostles, and may serve as an apology for their 
repeated drowsiness on solemn occasions ; for a first thought on 
the subject might suggest to a common man, the irreverent notion, 
that those who could slumber at the transfiguration of the Son of 
God on Mount Hermon, and at his agony in Gethsemane, must 
be very sleepy fellows. On this occasion these causes were suf- 
ficient to enchain their senses, in spite of the repeated exhortations 
of Jesus, for on his coming to them the second time, and saying 
in a warning voice, " Rise and pray, lest ye enter into temptation ; 
why sleep ye V they wist not what to answer him, for their eyes 



106 Peter's djsciplesmfp 

were very heavy, and they slept for sorrow. Still again he retired 
about a stone's throw from them, as before, and there, prone on 
the ground, he renewed the strife with his feelings. Alone and 
unsympathized with by his friends, did the Redeemer of men en- 
dure the agonies of that hour, yet not wholly alone nor unsup- 
ported ; for as Luke assures us, there appeared to him an angel 
from heaven, strengthening him. At last the long struggle ceas- 
ed. Distant voices coming over the glen through the stillness of 
the night, and the glare of torches flashing from the waters of the 
Kedron through the shades of the garden, g'ave him notice that 
those were near who came to drag him to a shameful death. Yet 
the repugnance of nature with which his late strife had been so 
dreadful, was now so overcome that he shrank not from the ap- 
approaching death, but calmly walked to meet it. Coming for- 
ward to his sleeping disciples, he said to them, " Sleep on now 
and take your rest : behold, the time is at hand when the son of 
man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Arise, let us be go- 
ing." The rush of the armed bands of the temple guards followed 
his words, and when the apostles sprung to their feet, their drow- 
siness was most effectually driven off by the appalling sight of a 
crowd of fierce men, filling the garden and surrounding them. 
As soon as the villainous leaders of the throng could overcome 
the reverence which even the lowest of their followers had for the 
majestic person of the Savior, they brought them up to the charge, 
and a retainer of the high priest, by name Malchus, with the for- 
ward officiousness of an insolent menial, laid hold of Jesus. Now 
was the time for Galilean spunk to show itself. The disciples 
around instantly asked, " Lord, shall we smite with the sword ?" 
But without waiting for an answer, Peter, though amazed by 
this sudden and frightful attack, as soon as he saw the body of 
his adored Master profaned by the rude hands of base hirelings, 
foremost in action as in word, regardless of numbers, leaped on 
the assailants with drawn sword, and with a movement too quick 
to be shunned, he gave the foremost a blow, which, if the dark- 
ness had not prevented, might have been fatal. As it was, there 
could not have been a more narrow escape, for the sword lighting 
on the head of the priest's zealous servant, just grazed his temple 
and cut off his ear. But this display of courage was after all, 
fruitless ; for he was surrounded by a great body of men, armed 
in the expectation of this very kind of resistance ; and in addition 
to this, the remonstrance of Jesus must have been sufficient to 



107 

dump the most fiery valor. He said to his zealous and fierce de- 
fender, " Put up thy sword again into its sheath, for they that take 
the sword shall perish by the sword. The cup which my Father 
hath given me, shall I not drink ? Thinkest thou that if I should 
now pray to my Father, he would not instantly send me twelve 
leo-ions of angels at a word ? But how then shall the scriptures 
be fulfilled, which say that it must be thus V Having thus stopped 
the ineffectual and dangerous opposition of his few followers, he 
quietly gave himself up to his captors, interceding however for 
his poor, friendless and unprotected disciples. " I am Jesus of 
Nazareth : if therefore you seek me, let these go their way." This 
he said as it were in reference to a literal and corporeal fulfilment 
of the words which he had used in his last prayer with his disci- 
ples, — " Of them whom thou gavest me I lost none." The disci- 
ples after receiving from Jesus such a special command to abstain 
from resistance, and perceiving how utterly desperate was the 
condition of affairs, without waiting the decision of the question, 
all forsaking him, fled ; and favored by darkness and their famil- 
iar knowledge of the grounds, they ail escaped in various direc- 
tions. 

Gethsemane. — This place has already been alluded to in the description of Mount 
Olivet. [Note on p. 96.] From the same source I extract a further brief notice of 
the present aspect of this most holy ground. " Proceeding along the valley of Ke- 
dron, at the foot of Mount Olivet, is the garden of Gethsemane : an even plat of 
ground, not above fifty-seven yards square, where are shown some old olive trees, 
supposed to identify the spot to which our Lord was wont to repair. John, xviii. 
1, 2." [Mod. Trav. Palestine, p. 156.] It is also remarked by Dr. Richardson, [p. 78 
of the same work,] that " the gardens of Gethsemane are still in the sort of a ruined 
cultivation ; the fences are broken down, and the olive trees decaying, as if the hand 
that dressed and fed them was withdrawn." 

The etymology and meaning of the name Gethsemane, is given by Lightfoot, (Cen- 
tur. Chorog. in Matt., cap. 41.) The name is derived from the product of the tree 
which was so abundantly raised there, and which gave name also to the mountain. 
Gethsemane is compounded of nj, " a press," and fcODtV, "olive oil," — "an oil-press;" 
because the oil was pressed out and manufactured on the spot where the olive was 
raised. 

Ten o'clock. — This I conclude to have been about the time, because (in Matt. xxvi. 
20) it is said that it was evening already, (that is, about 6 o'clock,) when Jesus sat 
down to supper with his disciples, and allowing time on the one hand for the events 
at the supper-table and on the walk, as well as those in the garden, — and on the other 
hand for those which took place before midnight, (cock crowing,) we must fix the 
time as I have above. 

The glare oj 'torches .—John (xviii. 3.) is the only evangelist who brings in this highly 
picturesque circumstance of the equipment of the band with the means of searching 
the dark shades and bowers of the garden. 

HIS THREE-FOLD DENIAL. 

Peter, however, had not so soon forgot his zealous attachment 
to Jesus, as to leave him in such hands, without farther know- 
ledge of his fate; but as soon as he was satisfied that the pursuit 



108 Peter's discipleship. 

of the disciples was given up, he. in company with John, follow- 
ed the band of officers at safe distance, and ascertained whither 
they were carrying the captive. After they had seen the train 
proceed to the palace of the high priest, they proceeded directly 
to the same place. Here John, being known to the high priest, 
and having friends in the family, went boldly in, feeling- secure 
by his friendship in that quarter, against any danger in conse- 
quence of his connection with Jesus. Being known to the ser- 
vant girl who kept the door, as a friend of the family, he got in 
without difficulty, and had also influence enough to get leave to 
introduce Peter, as a friend of his who had some curiosity to see 
what was going on. Peter, who had stood without the door wait- 
ing for the result of John's maneuver, was now brought into the 
palace, and walked boldly into the hall where the examination of 
Jesus was going on, hoping to escape entirely unnoticed by keep- 
ing in the dimly lighted parts of the hall, by which he would be 
secure, at the same time that he would the better see what was 
going on near the lights. Standing thus out of the way in the 
back part of the room, he might have witnessed the whole with- 
out incurring the notice of anybody. But the servants and 
others, who had been out over the damp valley of the Kedron 
after Jesus, feeling chilled with the walk, (for the long nights of 
that season are in Jerusalem frequently in strong contrast with the 
warmth of mid-day,) made up a good fire of coal in the back 
part of the hall, where they stood looking on. Peter himself be- 
ing, too, no doubt thoroughly chilled with his long exposure to 
the cold night air, very naturally and unreflectingly came forward 
to the fire, where he sat down and warmed himself among the 
servants and soldiers. The bright light of the coals shining di- 
rectly on his anxious face, those who stood by, noticing a stran- 
ger taking such interest in the proceedings, began to scrutinize 
him more narrowly. At last, the servant girl who had let him 
in at the door, with the inquisitive curiosity so peculiarly strong in 
her sex, knowing that he had come in with John as his partic- 
ular acquaintance, and concluding that he was like him associ- 
ated with Jesus, boldly said to him, " Thou also art one of this 
man's disciples." But Peter, like a true Galilean, as ready to lie 
as to fight, thinking only of the danger of the recognition, at 
once denied him, forgetting the lately offensive prediction, in his 
sudden alarm. He said before them all, " Woman, I am not! — I 
know him not : neither do I understand what thou sayest." This 



peter's discipleship. 109 

bold and downright denial silenced the forward impertinence of 
the girl, and for a time may have quieted the suspicions of those 
around. Peter, however, startled by this sudden attack, all at 
once perceived the danger into which he had unthinkingly thrust 
himself, and drawing back from his prominent station before the 
fire, which had made him so unfortunately conspicuous, went out 
into the porch of the building, notwithstanding the cold night 
air, preferring the discomfort of the exposure, to the danger of 
his late position. As he walked there in the open air, he heard 
the note of the cock sounding clear, through the stillness of mid- 
night, announcing the beginning of the third watch. The sound 
had a sad import to him, and must have recalled to his mind some 
thought of his master's warning ; but before it could have made 
much impression, it was instantly banished altogether from his 
mind, by a new alarm from the inquisitiveness of some of the 
retainers of the palace, who, seeing a stranger lurking in a covert 
manner about the building at that time of night, very naturally 
felt suspicious enough of him to examine his appearance nar- 
rowly. Among those who came about him, was another of those 
pert damsels who seem to have been very numerous and forward 
about the house of the head of the Jewish faith. She, after a 
satisfactory inspection of the suspicious person, very promptly 
informed those that were there also about him, " This fellow also 
was with Jesus of Nazareth." Peter's patience being at last 
worn out with the pertinacious annoyances of these spiteful 
lasses, not only flatly contradicted the positive assertion of the 
girl, but backed his words with an oath, which seems to have 
had the decisive effect of hushing his female accusers entirely, 
and he considered himself to have turned off suspicion for a 
time so effectually, that, after cooling himself sufficiently in the 
porch, being distracted with anxiety about the probable fate of his 
beloved Master, he at last ventured again into the great hall of 
the palace, where the examination of Jesus was still going on. 
Here he remained a deeply interested spectator and auditor for 
about an hour, without being disturbed, when some of the by- 
standers who were not so much interested in the affair before 
them as to be prevented by it from looking about them, had their 
attention again drawn to the stranger who had been an object of 
such suspicion. There were probably more than one that recog- 
nized the active and zealous follower of the Nazarene, as Peter 
had been in such constant attendance on him throughout his 

15 



110 FETEK 7 S DJSCIFLESHIF, 

whole stay in Jerusalem. But no one seems to have cared to 
provoke an irascible Galilean by an accusation which he might 
resent in the characteristic manner of his countrymen ; till an- 
other of the servants of the high priest, a relation of Malchus, 
whose ear Peter had cut off, after looking well at him, and being 
provoked at the impudence of such a vagabond in thrusting him- 
self into the home of the very man whom he had so shockingly 
mutilated and so nearly murdered, determined to bring the offend- 
er to punishment, and speaking to his fellow-servants, he indig- 
nantly and confidently affirmed, " This fellow cilso was with him, 
for he is a Galilean." And turning to Peter, whom he had seen 
in Gethsemane, when engaged at the time of the capture of Je- 
sus, he imperiously asked him, "Did I not see thee in the garden 
with him]" And others, joining in the charge, said decidedly 
to him, 4t Surely thou art one of them also : for thy very speech, 
thy accent, unquestionably, betrays thee to be a Galilean." Pe- 
ter began at last to see that his situation was growing quite des- 
perate, and finding that his distress about his Lord had brought 
him within a chance of the same fate, determined to extricate 
himself by as unscrupulously using his tongue in his own de- 
fense as he had before used his sword for his Master. Besides, 
he had already told two flat lies within about an hour, and it was 
not for a Galilean in such a pass to hesitate about one more, even 
though seconded by a perjury. For he then began to curse and 
to swear, saying, " Man, I know not what thou sayest. — I know 
not the man of whom ye speak." And immediately, while he 
was yet speaking, the cock crew the second time. At that mo- 
ment, the Lord turned and looked upon Peter, and at the same 
sound the conscience-stricken disciple turning towards his Lord, 
met that glance. And what a look ! He who cannot ima- 
gine it for himself, cannot conceive it from the ideal picture of 
another; but its effect was sufficiently dramatic to impress the 
least picturesque imagination. As the Lord turned and looked 
upon him, Peter remembered the word of the Lord, how he had 
said to him, " Before the cock shall crow twice this night, thou 
shalt deny me thrice." And thinking thereon, he went out, 
and wept bitterly. Tears of rebuked conceit, — of self-humbled 
pride, over fallen glory and sullied honor, — flowed down his 
manly cheeks. Where was now the fiery spirit once in word so 
ready to brave death, with all the low malice of base foes, for the 
sake of Jesus ? Where was that unshaken steadiness, that daunt- 



peter's discipleship. Ill 

less energy that once won him from the lips of his Master, when 
first his searching eye fell on him, the name of the rock, — that 
name by which again he had been consecrated as the mighty 
foundation-RocK of the church of God ? Was this the chief of 
the apostles ?— the keeper of the keys of the kingdom of heav- 
en ? binding and loosing on earth what should be bound or 

loosed in heaven 1 Where were the brave, high hopes of earthly 
o-lory to be won under the warlike banners of his kingly Master ? 
Where was that Master and Lord ? The hands of. the rude were 
'now laid on him, in insult and abuse, — his glories broken and 
faded, — his power vain for his own rescue from sufferings vastly 
greater than those so often relieved by him in others, — his fol- 
lowers dispirited and scattered, — disowning and casting out as evil 
the name they had so long adored. The haughty lords of Ju- 
daism were now exulting in their cruel victory, re-established in 
their dignity, and strengthened in their tyranny by this long- 
wished triumph over their deadly foe. He wept for bright hopes 
dimmed, — for crushed ambition,— but more than all, for broken 
faith, — for trampled truth, — and for the three-fold and perjured 
denial of his betrayed and forsaken Lord. Well might he weep — 

" There's bliss in tears, 

When he who sheds them inly feels 
Some lingering stain of early years 

Effaced by every drop that" steals. 
The fruitless showers of worldly woe 

Fall dark to earth and never rise ; 
But tears that from repentance flow, 

In bright exhalement reach the skies." 

The soldiers, fyc. — It has been supposed by some thai this armed force was a part 
of the Roman garrison which was always kept in Castle Antonia, close by the tem- 
ple; (see note on page 95;) but there is nothing in the expressions of either of the 
evangelists which should lead us to think so; on the contrary, their statement 
most distinctly specifies, that those concerned in the arrest were from a totally differ- 
ent quarter. Matthew (xxvi. 47) describes them as "a great throng, w r ith swords 
and staves, from the chief priests and elders of the people." The whole expression 
implies a sort of half-mob of low fellows, servants and followers of the members of 
the Sanhedrim, accompanying the ordinary temple-guard, which was a mere band 
of Levite peace-officers under the priests, whose business it was to keep order in the 
courts of the temple — a duty hardly more honorable than that of a sweeper or "door- 
keeper in the house of the Lord," from which office, indeed, it was probably not dis- 
tinct. These watchmen and porters, for they were no better, were allowed by the 
Roman government of the city and kingdom, a kind of contemptuous favor in bear- 
ing swords to defend from profane intrusion their holy shrine, which Gentile soldiers 
could not approach as guards, without violating the sanctity of the place. Such a 
body as these men and their chance associates, are therefore well and properly de- 
scribed by Matthew, as a " throng with swords and clubs;" but what intelligent man 
would ever have thought of characterizing in this w r a) r , a regular detachment of the 
stately and well-armed legion which maintained the dignity and power of the Ro- 
man governor of Judeal Mark (xiv. 43) uses precisely the same expression as 
Matthew, to describe them: Luke (xxii. 52) represents Jesus as speaking to "the 
chief priests and captains of the temple and the elders, who had come against him, 
saying, ' Have you come out as against a thief, with swords and clubs V " John 



112 PETRft's DISCIPLESHIP. 

(xviii. 3) speaks of the band as made up in part of the servants of " the chief priests 
and Pharisees," &c. So that the whole matter, unquestionably, was managed and 
executed entirely by the Jews ; and the progress of the story shows that they did not 
call in the aid of the heathen secular power, until the last bloody act required a con- 
summation which the ordinances of Rome forbade to the Jews, and then only did 
they summon the aid of the governor's military force. Indeed, they were too care- 
ful in preserving their few peculiar secular privileges still left, to give up the smallest 
power of tyrannizing, permitted by their Roman lords. 

The long nights, in contrast with the heat of the day. — It should be remembered, 
that according to a just calculation, these events happened in the month of March, 
when the air of Palestine is uncomfortably cold. Conder, i ; . his valuable topograph- 
ical compilation, says, " during the months of Slay, June, July and August, the sky 
is for the most part cloudless ; but during the night, the earth is moistened with a 
copious dew. Sultry days are not unfrequently succeeded by intensely cold nights. 
To these sudden vicissitudes, references are made in the Old Testament. Gen. xxxi. 
40: Ps. exxi. 6." [Mod. Trav. Palestine, p. 14.] 

The cold season, (^p Qor,) immediately following the true winter, (Din Hho- 

nph,) took in the latter pari of the Hebrew month Shebeth, the whole of Adar, and the 
former half of Nisan ; that is in modern divisions of time, — from the beginning of 
February to the beginning of April, according to the Calendariuvi Palcstinue, in the 
Critica Biblica, Vol. Ill : but according to Jahn, (Arch. Bib. § 21,) from the middle 
of February to the middle of April, the two estimates varying with the different 
views about the dates of the ancient Hebrew months. 

Galilean, ready to lie as to fight. — This may strike some, as rather too harsh a sen- 
tence to pass upon the general character of a whole people, but I believe I am borne 
out in this seeming abuse, by the steady testimony of most authorities to which I can 
readily refer. Josephus, whom I have already quoted in witness of their pugnacity, 
(on page 102,) seems to have been so well pleased with this trait, and also with their 
"industry and activity," which he so highly commends in them, as well as the rich- 
ness of the natural resources of the country, all which characteristics, both of the 
people and the region, he made so highly available in their defense during the war 
with the Romans, that he does not think it worth while to criticise their morals, to 
which, indeed, the season of a bloody war gives a sort of license, that made such 
defects less prominent, being apparently rather characteristic of the times than the 
people. But there is great abundance of condemnatory testimony, which shows that 
the Galileans bore as bad a character among their neighbors, as my severest remark 
could imply. Numerous passages in the gospels and Acts show this so plainly, as to 
convey this general impression against them very decidedly. Kuinoel (on Matt. ii. 
23) speaks strongly of their proverbially low moral character. " All the Galileans 
were so despised by the dwellers of Jerusalem and Judea, that when they wished 
to characterize a man as a low and outcast wretch, they called him a Galilean." On 
other passages also, (as on John vii. 52, and Matt. iv. 17,) he repeats this intellectual 
and moral condemnation in similar terms. Beza and Grotius also, in commenting 
on these passages, speak of Galilee as " contempta regio." Rosenmueller also, (on 
John vii. 52,) says " Nullus, aiunt, Galilaeus unquam a Deo donatus est spiritu pro- 
phetico: gens est Deo despcctaP That is, "It was a saying among them, that no 
Galilean was ever indued with a spirit of prophecy : they are a people despised by 
God." I might quote at great length from many commentators to the same effect, 
but these will serve as a specimen. It should be remarked, however, that the Gali- 
leans, though they might be worse than most Jews in their general character, were 
not very peculiar in their neglect of truth ; for from the time of Abraham, Isaac and 
Jacob, to the present moment, the Asiatic races, generally, have been infamous for 
falsehood, and there are man) r modern travelers who are ready to testify that an Ori- 
ental, generally, when asked an indifferent question, will tell a lie at a venture, un- 
less he sees some special personal advantage likely to result to him from telling 
the truth. 

Yet in minute legal observances, the Galileans were, for the most part, much more 
rigid in interpreting and following the law of Moses, than the inhabitants of Judea, 
as is abundantly shown by Lightfoot in his numerous Talmudic quotations, (Cent. 
Chor. cap. 86,) where the comparison is, on many accounts, highly favorable to such 
of the Galileans as pretended to observe and follow the Jewish law at all. 

Thy accent betrays thee. — Lightfoot is very rich in happy illustrations of this pas- 
sage, (Cent. Chor. cap. 87.) He has drawn very largely here from the Talmudic 



PETERS DISCIPLESHIP. 11.1 

writers, who are quite amusing in the instances which they give of the dialectic dif- 
ferences between the Galileans and the Judeans. Several of the puns which they 
give, would not be accounted dull even in modern times, and indeed, the Galilean 
brogue seems co have been as well marked, and to have given occasion for nearly as 
much wit as that of Ireland. The Galileans, thus marked by dialect as well as by 
manners, held about the same place in the estimation of the pure Judean race, as 
the modern Irish do among those of Saxon-English tongue and blood ; and we can- 
not better conceive of the scorn excited in the refined Jews by the idea of a Gali- 
lean prophet with his simple disciples, than by imagining the sort of impression that 
would be made, by a raw Irishman attempting the foundation of a new sect in Lon- 
don or Boston, with a dozen rough and uneducated workmen for his preachers and 
main supporters. 

The bright light of the fire shining on his face, $c. — This incident is taken from 
Luke xxii. 56, where the expression in the common version is, " a certain maid saw 
him as he sat by the fire.'" But in the original Greek this last word is <p&s, (phos,) 
which means "light,"' and not " fire ;" and it is translated here in this peculiar man- 
ner because it evidently refers to the light of the fire, from its connection with the 
preceding verse, where it is said that " Peter sat down among them ' before' the fire 
which they had kindled ;" the word fire in this passage being in the Greek *■»/>, (pur,) 
which is never translated otherwise. But the unusual translation of the word ^w?, 
by "fire" in the other verse, though it gives a just idea of Peter's position, makes a 
common reader lose sight of the prominent reason of his detection, which was, that 
the " light of the fire" shone on his face. 

In speaking of Peter's fall and its attendant circumstances, Lampius (in ev. John 
xviii. 17,) seems to be most especially scandalized by the means through which Pe- 
ter's ruin was effected. " Sed ab ancilla Cepham vinci, dedecus ejus auget. Quanta 
inconstantia ! Glui in armatos ordines paulo ante irruperat nunc ad vocem levis 
mulierculae tremit. Si Adamo probrosum, quod a femina conjuge seductus erat, 
non minus Petro, quod ab ancilla." That is, " But that Cephas should have been 
overcome by a girl, increases his disgrace. How great the change ! He who, but a 
little before, had charged an armed host, now trembled at the voice of a silly wo- 
man. If it was a shame to Adam, that he had been seduced by his wife, it was no 
less so to Peter, that he was by a girl." 

The cock crew. — By this circumstance, the time of the denial in all its parts is well 
ascertained. The first cock-crowing after the first denial marked the hour of mid- 
night, and the second cock-crowing announced the first dawn of day. As Lampius 
says, "Altera haec erat aKzKTpofyuvia, praenuncia lucis, non tantum in terra, sed et in 
corde Petri, tenebris spississimis obsepto, mox iterum oriturae." " This was the sec- 
ond cock-crowing, the herald of light, soon to rise again, not only on earth, but 
also in the heart of Peter, now overspread with the thickest darkness." 

And thinking thereon, he wept. — This expression is taken from Mark xiv. 72, and 
accords with our common translation, though very different from many others that 
have been proposed. The word thus variously rendered, is in the original Greek, 
wi/JaW, (epibalon,) and bears a great variety of definitions which can be determined 
only by its connections, in the passages where it occurs. Campbell says, " There 
are not many words in scripture which have undergone more interpretations than 
this term ;" and truly the array of totally diverse renderings, each ably supported by 
many of the most learned Biblical scholars that ever lived, is truly appalling to the 
investigator. (1.) Those who support the common English translation are Kypke, 
Wetstein, Campbell and Bloomfield, and others quoted by the latter. — (2.) Another 
translation which has been ably defended is, u he began to weep." This is the ex- 
pression in the common German translation, (Martin Luther's,) " er hob an zu 
weinen." It is also the version of the Vulgate, (" Coepit flere,") the Syriac, Gothic, 
Persian, and Armenian translations, as Kninoel and Heinsius observe, who also 
maintain this rendering. — (3.) Another is, " He proceeded to weep," ("Addensflevit.") 
which is that of Grotius, LeClerc, Simon, Petavius and others. — (4.) Another is, 
" covering his head, he wept." This seems to have begun with Theophylact, who 
has been followed by a great number, among whom Salmasius, Wolf, Suicer, Mack- 
night, and Krebs, are the most prominent.— (5.) Another is, " rushing out, he wept." 
This is maintained by Beza, Rosenmueller, Schleusner, Bretschneider and Wahl. — 
(6.) Another is, " Having looked at him," (Jesus,) " he wept." This is the version of 
Hammond and Palairet. — " Who shall decide when" so many " doctors disagree V 
I should feel safest in leaving the reader, asParkhurst does, to "consider and judge" 



114 peter's discipleship. 

for himself; but in defense of my own rendering, I would simply observe, that the 
common English version is that which is most in accordance with the rules of gram- 
mar, and is best supported by classic usage, while the second and third are justly 
objected to by Bloomfield and Campbell as ^grammatical, and unsupported by truly 
parallel passages, notwithstanding the array of classical quotations by Bp. Blom- 
neld and others ; and the fourth and fifth equally deserve rejection for the very tame 
and cold expression which they make of it, the fourth also being ungrammatical 
like the second and third. The sixth definition also may be rejected on grammatical 
grounds, a3 well as for lack of authorities and classic usage to support such an ellip- 
tical translation. — For long and numerous discussions of all these points, see any or 
every one of the writers whose names I have cited in this note. 

Christ's crucifixion. 
Prom that moment we hear no more of the humbled apostle, 
till after the fatal consummation of his Redeemer's suffering??. 
Yet he must have been a beholder of that awful scene. When 
the multitude of men and women followed the cross-bearing' 
Redeemer down the vale of Calvary, mourning with tears and 
groans, Peter could not have sought to indulge in solitary grief. 
And since the son of Zebedee stood by the cross during the 
whole agony of Jesus, the other apostles probably had no more 
cause of fear than John, and Peter also might have stood near, 
among the crowd, without any danger of being further molested 
by those whom lie had offended, since they now looked on their 
triumph as too complete to need any minor acts of vengeance, to 
consummate it over the fragments of the broken Nazarene sect. 
Still, it was in silent sorrow and horror that he gazed on this 
sight of woe, and the deep despair which now overwhelmed his 
bright dreams of glory was no longer uttered in the violent 
expressions to which his loquacious genius prompted him. He 
now had time and reason enough to apprehend the painfully lite- 
ral meaning of the oft-repeated predictions of Christ about these 
sad events — predictions which once were so wildly unheeded or 
perversely misconstrued as best suited the ambitious disciples' 
hopes of power, which was to be set up over all the civil, reli- 
gious, and military tyrants of Palestine, and of which they were 
to be the chief partakers. These hopes all went out with the 
last breath of their crucified Lord, and when they turned away 
from that scene of hopeless woe, after taking a. last look of the 
face that had so long been the source of light and truth to them, 
now fixed and ghastly in the last struggle of a horrible death, 
they must have felt that the delusive dream of years was now 
broken, and that they were but forlorn and desperate outcasts in 
the land which their proud thoughts once aspired to rule. What 
despairing anguish must have been theirs, as climbing the hill- 



PETER ? S DISCIPLESHIP. 115 

side with sad and slow steps, they looked back from its top down 
upon the cross, that might still be seen in the dark valley, though 
dim with the shades of falling night ! Their Lord, their teach- 
er, their guide, their friend, — hung there between the heavens 
and the earth, among thieves, the victim of triumphant tyranny ; 
and they, owing their safety only to the contemptuous forbear- 
ance of his murderers, must now, strangers in a strange land, 
seek a home among those who scorned them. 

The vale of Calvary. — This expression will no doubt excite vast surprise in the 
minds of many readers, who have all their lives heard and talked of Mount Calvary, 
without once taking the pains to find out whether there ever was any such place. 
Such persons will, no doubt, find their amazement still farther increased, on learn- 
ing that no Mount Calvary is mentioned in any part of the Bible, nor in any an- 
cient author. 

The whole account given of this name in the Bible, is in Luke xxiii. 33, where in 
the common translation it is said that Christ was crucified in " the place called Cal- 
vary." In the parallel passages in the other gospels, the Hebrew name only is given, 
Golgotha, which means simply "a skull." (Matt, xxvii. 33 : Mark xv. 22: John 
xix. 17.) This particular place does not seem to be named and designated in any 
part of the Old Testament, but a very clear idea of its general situation can be ob- 
tained, from the consideration of the fact, that there was a place beyond the walls of 
Jerusalem, where all the dead were buried, and whither all the carcasses of slain 
animals were carried and left to moulder. This was that part of the valley of the 
Kedron which was called the valley of Tophet, or the vale of the son of Hinnom. 
This is often alluded to as the place of dead bodies. (Jer. vii. 32, &c.) Besides, all 
reason and analogy utterly forbid the supposition, that dead carcasses would be piled 
up on a " mount" or hill, to rot and send their effluvia all over the city in every fa- 
vorable wind ; while on the other hand, a deep valley like that of Hinnom would be 
a most proper place for carrying such offensive matters. Josephus, in his description 
of the temple, very particularly notices the fact, that all the blood and filth which 
flowed from the numerous sacrifices, was conveyed by a subterraneous channel or 
drain to this very valley. 

THE RESURRECTION. 

With such feelings they returned to Jerusalem, where the 
eleven, who were all Galileans, found places of abode with those 
of Christ's followers who were dwellers in the city. Here they 
passed the Sabbath heavily and sorrowfully, no doubt, and their 
thoughts must now have reverted to their former business, to 
which it now became each one of them to return, since he who 
had called them from their avocations could now no more send 
them forth on his errands of love. On the day after the sabbath, 
while such thoughts and feelings must still have distressed them, 
almost as soon as they had risen, some of them received a sudden 
and surprising call from several of the alarmed women, who hav- 
ing faithfully ministered to all the necessities of Jesus during his 
life, had been preparing to do the last sad offices to his dead body. 
The strange story brought by these was, that having gone early 
in the morning to the sepulcher, in the vale of Calvary, with this 
great object, they had been horror-struck to find the place in 



116 

which the body had been deposited on sabbath eve, now empty, 
notwithstanding the doable security of the enormous rock which 
had closed the mouth of the cave, and the stout guard of Roman 
soldiers who were posted there by request of the Jews, to pre- 
vent expected imposition. On hearing this strange story, Peter 
and John, followed by Mary of Magdala, started at once for the 
sepulcher. As they made all possible haste, the youth of John 
enabled him to reach the place before his older companion ; but 
Peter arrived very soon after him, and, outdoing his companion 
now in prompt and diligent examination, as he had before been 
outdone in bodily speed, he immediately made a much more tho- 
rough search of the spot, than John in his hurry and alarm had 
thought of. He had contented himself with looking down into 
the sepulcher, and having distinctly seen the linen clothes lying 
empty and alone, he went not in. But when Simon Peter came 
following him, he went into the sepulcher and saw the linen 
clothes lie ; and the napkin that was about his head, not lying 
with the other clothes, but folded up carefully in a place by itself. 
Having thus made a thorough search, as this shows, into every 
nook and corner, he satisfied himself perfectly that the body had 
in some way or other been actually removed, and on his report- 
ing this to his companion, he also came down into the cave, and 
made a similar examination, with the same result. The only 
conclusion to which these appearances brought their minds, was 
that some person, probably with the design of further insult and 
injury, had thus rifled the tomb, and dragged the naked body 
from its funeral vestments. For, as yet, they understood not the 
scripture, nor the words of Christ himself, that he must rise from 
the dead. The two disciples, therefore, overwhelmed with new 
distress, Avent away again to their own temporary home, to con- 
sult with the rest of the disciples, leaving Mary behind them, 
lingering in tears about the tomb. 

Some time after their return, but before they had been able to 
explain these strange appearances, Mary followed them home, 
and as soon as she found them, added to their amazement im- 
mensely, by a surprising story of her actually having seen Jesus 
himself, alive, in bodily form, who had conversed with her, and 
had distinctly charged her to tell his disciples, and Peter espe- 
cially, that he would go before them into Galilee, where he would 
meet them. When she came and told them this, they were 
mourning and weeping. But when they had heard that he was 



peter's discipleship. 117 

alive, though the story was confirmed with such a minute detail 
of attendant circumstances, and though assured by her that she 
had personally seen him, they yet believed not. So dark were 
their minds about even the possibility of his resurrection, that 
afterwards, when two of their own number, who had gone about 
seven miles into the country, to Emmaus, returned in great haste 
to Jerusalem, and told the disciples that they too had seen Jesus, 
and had a long talk with him, they would not believe even this 
additional proof, but supposed that they, in their credulous ex- 
pectation, had suffered themselves to be imposed on by some one 
resembling Jesus in person, who chose to amuse himself by ma- 
king them believe so palpable a falsehood. Yet some of them, 
even then, suffering their longing hopes to get the better of their 
prudent scepticism, were beginning to express their conviction of 
the fact, saying, "The Lord has risen indeed, and has appeared 
unto Simon." Of this last-mentioned appearance, no farther 
particulars are any where given, though it is barely mentioned in 
1 Cor. xv. 5. and it is impossible to give any certain account of 
the circumstances. While assembled at their evening meal, and 
thus discussing the various strange stories brought to their ears 
in such quick succession, after they had fastened the doors for 
security against interruption from the Jews, all at once, without 
any previous notice, Jesus himself appeared standing in the midst, 
and said, " Peace be unto you." They seeing the mysterious 
object of their conversation, so strangely and suddenly present 
among them, while they were just discussing the possibility of 
his existence, were much frightened, and in the alarm of the mo- 
ment supposed that they were beholding a disembodied spirit. 
But he soon calmed their terrors, and changed their fear into firm 
and joyful assurance, that he was indeed the same whom they 
had so long known, and to prove that the body now before them 
was the same which they had two days before seen fastened ex- 
piring to the cross, he showed them his hands, his feet, and his 
side, with the very marks which the spear and nails had made in 
them. And while they yet could not soberly believe for joy, and 
stood wondering, he, to show them that his body still performed 
the functions of life, and required the same support as theirs, 
asked them for a share of the food on the table, and taking some 
from their hands, he ate it before them. He then upbraided them 
with their unbelief and stupidity in not believing those who had 
seen him after he was risen from the dead. He recalled to their 

16 



118 peter's discipleship, 

minds his former repeated warnings of these very events, literally 
as they had been brought to pass. He said to them, " These are 
the words which I spake to you while I was yet with you, that 
all things must be fulfilled which are written in the law of Mo- 
ses, and in the prophets, and in the psalms, concerning me." 
Then opened he their understandings, that they might under- 
stand the scriptures. Then it was, that at last burst upon them 
the light so long shut out ; they knew their own past blindness, 
and they saw in the clear distinctness of reality, all his repeated 
predictions of his humiliation, suffering, death, resurrection, and 
of their cowardice and desertion, brought before them in one 
glance, and made perfectly consistent with each other and with 
the result. So that, amid the rejoicings of new hope born from 
utter despair, at the same time expired their vain and idle notion 
of ear tin 1 y glory and power under his reign. Their Master had 
passed through all this anguish and disgrace, and come back to 
them from the grave ; yet, though thus vindicating his boundless 
power, he did not pretend to use the least portion of it in a veil 
ging on his foes all the cruelties which he had suffered from their 
hands. They could not hope, then, for a better fate, surely, than 
his ; they were to expect only similar labors, rewarded with sim- 
ilar sufferings and death. 

THE MEETING ON THE LAKE. 

After this meeting with him, they saw him again repeatedly, 
but no incident, relating particularly to the subject of this me- 
moir, occurred on either of these occasions, except at the scene on 
lake Tiberias, so fully and graphically given by John, in the last 
chapter of his gospel. It seems that at that time, the disciples 
had, in accordance with the earliest command of Jesus after his 
resurrection, gone into Galilee to meet him there. The particular 
spot where this incident took place was probably near Capernaum 
and Bethsaida, among their old familiar haunts. Peter at this 
time residing at his home in Capernaum, it would seem, very nat- 
urally, while waiting for the visit which Christ had promised them, 
sought to pass the time as pleasantly as possible in his old busi- 
ness, from which he had once been called to draw men into the 
grasp of the gospel. With him at this time, were Thomas, or 
Didymus, and Nathanael, and the sons of Zebedee, and two other 
disciples, whether of the eleven or not, is not known. On his 
telling them that he was going out a fishing, they, allured also by 
old habits and a desire to amuse themselves in a useful way. de- 



pETEB.\s msOlPLE.SHIP. 119 

dared that they also would go with him, They went forth ac- 
cordingly, and taking the fishing-boat, pushed off in the evening 
as usual, the night being altogether the best time for catching the 
fish, because the lake not then being constantly disturbed by pass- 
ing vessels, the fish are less disposed to keep themselves in the 
depths of the waters, but feeling bolder in the stillness, rise to the 
surface within reach of the watchful fisherman. But on this oc- 
casion, from something peculiar in the state of the air or water, 
the fish did not come within the range of the net; and that night 
they caught nothing. Having given up the fruitless effort, they 
were towards morning heavily working in towards the shore, and 
were about a hundred yards from it, when they noticed some per- 
son who stood on the land ; but in the gray light of morning his 
person could not be distinguished. This man called to them in 
a friendly voice, as soon as they came within hailing distance, cry- 
ing out in a free and familiar way, " Boys ! have you anything 
to eat ?" To which they answered u No." The unknown friend 
then called to them in a confident tone, telling them to cast the 
net on the right side of the ship, and they should find plenty. 
They cast accordingly, and on closing and drawing the net, were 
not able to pull it in, for the weight of the fishes taken in it. In 
a moment flashed on the ready mind of John, the remembrance 
of the former similar prodigy wrought at the word of Jesus near 
the same spot, and he immediately recognized in the benevolent 
stranger, his Lord. Turning to Simon, therefore, who had been 
too busy tugging at the net to think of the meaning of the mira- 
cle, he said to him, " It is the Lord." Conviction burst on him 
with equal certainty as on his companion, and giving way to his 
natural headlong promptitude in action, he leaped at once into the 
water, after girding his great coat around him, and by partly 
swimming and partly wading through the shallows, he soon reach- 
ed the shore, where his loved and long-expected Master was. At 
the same time, with as little delay as possible, the rest of them, 
leaving their large vessel probably on account of the shallows 
along that part of the coast, came ashore in a little skiff, dragging 
the full net behind them. In this they showed their considerate 
prudence, for had they all in the first transport of impatience fol- 
lowed Peter, and left boat and net together at that critical mo- 
ment, the net would have loosened and the fishes have escaped ; 
thus making the kind miracle of no effect by their carelessness. 
As soon as they were come to land they saw Jesus placed compo- 



120 peter's discipleship 

sedly by a fire of coals which he had made, and on which he had 
designed to cook for their common entertainment, some fish pre- 
viously caught, dished with some bread. Jesus without ceremo- 
ny ordered them to come and bring some of the fish they had 
just caught. Simon Peter now mindful of his late heedless de- 
sertion of his comrades in the midst of their worst labor, stepped 
forward zealously, and, unassisted, dragged the heavy net out of 
the water ; and though on opening it they found one hundred 
and fifty-three large fishes in it, notwithstanding the weight, the net 
was not broken. When they had obeyed his command, and sup- 
plied the place of the fish already cooked on the fire by fresh ones 
from the net, Jesus in a kind and hearty tone invited them to 
come and breakfast with him on what he had prepared. The 
disciples, notwithstanding the readiness with which they had come 
ashore to their Master, still seem to have felt somewhat shy ; not, 
however, because they had any solid doubt as to his really being 
the person they had supposed him, for no man durst say to him 
"who art thou?" knowing him to be the Lord. Perhaps it was 
not yet full day-light 7 which may account for their shyness and 
want of readiness in accepting his invitation. Bat Jesus, in order 
fully to assure them, comes and takes bread, and puts it into their 
hands, with a share of fish likewise to each. They now took 
hold heartily, and without scruple sat down around the fire to 
breakfast with him. So when they had done breakfast, as men 
are usually best disposed to be social after eating, he on this oc- 
casion addressed himself to Peter in words of reproof, warning and 
commission. He first inquired of him, " Simon, son of Jonah, 
lovest thou me more than these ?" To this Peter readily replied, 
" Yea, Lord, thou knowest that I love thee." Jesus then said to 
him, " Feed my lambs." Peter had learned some humility by his 
late fall from truth and courage. Before, he had boldly professed 
a regard for Christ, altogether surpassing in extent and permanen- 
cy the affection which the other disciples felt for him, and had, 
in the fullness of his self-sufficiency, declared that though all the 
rest should forsake him, yet would he abide by him, and follow 
him even to prison and to death. But now that high self-confi- 
dence had received a sad fall, and the remembrance of his late 
disgraceful conduct was too fresh in his mind to allow him any 
more to assume that tone of presumption. He therefore mod- 
estly confined his expression of attachment to the simple and 
humble reference to the all-knowmcr heart of his Divine Mas- 



121 

ter, to which he solemnly and affectingiy appealed as his faithful 
witness m this assertion of new and entire devotion to him, whom 
he had once so weakly denied and deserted. No more high-toned 
boastings — no more arrogant assertion of superior pretensions to 
fidelity arid firmness ; but a humble, submissive, beseeching ut 
terance of devoted love, that sought no comparisons to enhance 
its merit, but in lowly confidence appealed to the searcher of hearts 
as the undeceivable testifier of his honesty and truth. Nor was 
his deep and renewed affection, thus expressed, disregarded ; but 
Jesus accepting his purified self-sacrifice, at once in the same words 
both offered him the consoling pledge of his restoration to grace, 
and again charged him with the high commission, which, while 
it proved his Lord's confidence, gave him the means of showing 
to all mankind the sincerity and permanency of his change of 
heart. From the words of the Messiah's reply, he learned that 
the solid proof of his deserved restoration should be seen in his 
devotion to the work which that Messiah had begun ; that by 
guiding, guarding and feeding the young and tender of Christ's 
flock, when left again without their Master, he might set forth 
his new love. Already had Jesus, before that sad trial of 
their souls, in his parting, warning words to his near and dear 
ones, told them, " If ye keep my commandments ye shall abide in 
my love. Ye are my friends if ye do whatsoever I command you. 
By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have 
love one to another." And here, in practical comment on that 
former precept, did he give his restored apostle this test of un- 
changed love. So harmoniously and beautifully does the sacred 
record make precept answer and accord with precept. In the 
minute detail of mere common incident, we may wander and 
stagger bewildered among insignificant differences and difficulties ; 
but the rule of action, the guide of life, leads steadily and clearly 
through every maze, uneffaced by the changes of order, time and 
place. 

"Boys."— The Greek word here (vaiSia paidia) has a neuter termination, and is ap- 
plicable to persons of both sexes, like the English word " children," which is here 
given in the common version. But Jerome's Latin translation (the Vulgate) gives 
"pueri," " boys," as the just meaning in this place, and I have preferred it, as more in 
accordance with our usual forms of familiar address in such cases, than the one <nv- 
en in the common English version. 

Great coat.— Tins I consider as giving a better idea of the garment called in the 
Crreek nwjinw, (ependuten,) which is derived from a verb which means "putting 
on over another garment," and is of course described with more justice to the 
original by the English "great-coat," or " over-coat," than by "fisher's coat," as in 
the common translation. I suppose it was a rough outer dress designed as a 
protection against ram and spray, and which he put on in such a way, that he 



122 peter's discipi.kship. 

might "wade in it without the inconvenience of its hanging about his legs. It 
inust have been a sort of " over all," that he had pulled off while at work, and put on 
to wade in the water ; for the verb 8ia^wv[xi (diozonnumij has also that meaning as 
Well as "gird about," and his object in thus " putting on his over alls"' may have been 
to keep himself dry, by covering both his legs and body from the water ; for it may 
have come down over the legs like a sort of outside trowsers, and being tied tight, 
would make a very comfortable protection against cold water. See Poole and Kui- 
noel on this passage, John xxi. 7. 

Luther in his German translation has very queerly expressed this word, " guertete 
er das hemde um sich," " he girt his shirt about him ;" being led into this error prob- 
ably, by taking the following sentence in too strong a sense, concluding that he was 
perfectly naked. But I have already alluded (note on page 101) to the peculiar force 
of this word in the Bible, nor can it mean anything but that he was without his outer 
garments ; and it implies no more indecent exposure than in the case of Christ, when 
laying aside his garments to wash his disciples' feet. Besides, I have shown that the 
etymology of enevSvrrjs (ependutes) will not allow any meaning to it, but that of an 
" older garment" worn over other clothes. 

A little skiff. — The Greek word here is i:\oiapiov, (ploiarion.) and means " a small 
boat," and is the diminution of kXoiov, (ploion,) the word used in the third verse of 
the same chapter, as the name of the larger vessel in which they sailed, and which 
probably drew too much water to come close to the shore in this part of the lake, 
where it was probably shallow, so as to make it necessary for them to haul the net 
ashore with this little skiff, which seems to have been a sort of drag-boat to the larger 
vessel, kept for landing in such places. 

" Come and breakfast." — This is certainly a vast improvement on the common En- 
glish version, which here gives the word " dine." For it must strike an ordinaiy 
reader as a very early dinner at that time of the morning, (John xix. 4,) and what 
settles the question is, that the Greek word here is aptarrjoaTs, (aristesate,) which pri- 
marily and almost always was applied only to the eating of the earliest meal, or 
breakfast, being derived from apiarov, "breakfast," the first meal in the day, accord- 
ing to Homer and Xenophon. 

Many other unrecorded words of wisdom and love must have 
been spoken at this time, in the course of which Jesus again took 
occasion to put this meaning and moving question, " Simon, son 
of Jonah, lovest thou me ?" The first answer of Peter had suf- 
ficiently shown, that he had no more of that disposition to claim 
a merit superior to his fellow disciples, and Jesus did not again 
urge upon him a comparison with them, but merely renewed the 
inquiry in a simple, absolute form. Again Peter earnestly ex- 
pressed his love, with the same appeal to Christ's own knowledge 
of his heart for the testimony of his loyalty, " Yea, Lord, thou 
knowest that T love thee." He saith to him, " Feed my sheep." 
If thou lovest me, show that love, by supplying the place of my 
earthly care, to those whom I love. Love and feed those for 
whom I have bled and died. — What could be more simple and 
clear than this question ? What more earnest and honest than the 
answer ? What more abiding than the impression made by this 
charge ? Yet did not the far-seeing Savior desist from trying his 
disciple with these questions. Once more was it solemnly re- 
peated, " Simon, son of Jonah, lovest thou me T Peter was grieved 
that he asked him the third time. " lovest thou me ?"' He saw 



123 

at iast the reproachful meaning of the inquiry. Three times had 
this same apostle, by his false-hearted denial, renounced all love 
and interest in his Master, and three times did that injured and 
forgiving Master call upon him to pledge again his forfeited faith 
and affection. He thus pointed out the past weakness of Peter, 
and showed the means of maintaining and insuring future fideli- 
ty. Peter again still more movingly avowed his honest attach- 
ment, half remonstrating at this repetition of the question by one 
who must already know the heart of the answerer too fully for 
words to inform him anew.—" Lord, thou knowest all things ; thou 
knowest that I love thee." Jesus said to him, " Feed my sheep." 
He now passed on to a new prediction of his future fortunes, in 
the service to which he had in these words devoted him, making 
known to him the earthly reward which his services would at 
last receive. " I solemnly say to thee, when thou wast young, 
thou girdedst thyself and walkedst whither thou wouldest ; but 
when thou shalt be old, thou shalt stretch forth thy hands, and 
another shall gird thee, and carry thee whither thou wouldest 
not." This he said, to signify to him by what sort of death he 
should glorify God. That is, he in these words plainly foretold 
to him that he should, through all his toils and dangers in his 
Master's service, survive to old age ; and he also alludes to the 
loss of free agency in his own movements ; but the circumstances 
are so darkly alluded to, that the particular mode of his death 
could never be made to appear clearly from the prediction. The 
particular meaning of the expressions of this prophecy, can of 
course be best shown in connection with the circumstances of his 
death, as far as they are known ; and to that part of his history 
the explanations are deferred. 

After this solemn prediction, he said to him, " Follow me." This 
command seems not to. have any connection, as some have sup- 
posed, with the preceding words of Jesus referring to his future 
destiny, but to be a mere direction to follow him on his return 
from the lake, either back to Capernaum, or to the mountain ap- 
pointed for his meeting with the great body of his disciples. From 
what comes after this in the context, indeed, this would seem to 
be a fair construction ; for it is perfectly plain that as Christ said 
these words, he turned and walked away ; and that not only Peter 
followed at the direction of Christ, but also John of his own ac- 
cord,— and it is perfectly natural to suppose that the greater part 
of the disciples would choose to walk after Jesus, when they had 



124 



DISCIPLESHIP, 



met under such delightful and unexpected circumstances ; only 
leaving somebody to take care of the boats and fish. Peter fol- 
lowing his Lord as he was commanded, turned around to see who 
was next to him, and seeing John, was instantly seized with a de- 
sire to know the future fortunes of this apostle, who shared with 
him the highest confidence of his Master, and was even before 
him in his personal affections. He accordingly asked, " Lord, and 
what shall this man do ?" or more properly, " What shall become 
of this man ?" But the answer of Jesus was not at all calculated 
to satisfy his curiosity, though it seemed, in checking his inquiries, 
to intimate darkly, that this young apostle would outlive him, and 
be a witness of the events which had been predicted in connec- 
tion with the destruction of Jerusalem, and the second coming of 
Christ in judgment on his foes of the Jewish nation. This inter- 
esting scene here abruptly closes,- — the Savior and his followers 
passing off this spot to the places where he remained with them 
during the rest of the few days of his appearance after his resur- 
rection. 

The mountain appointed for his meeting, fyc. — It would be hard to settle the locality of 
this mountain with so few data as we have, but a guess or two may be worth offering. 
<Urotius concludes it to have been Mount Tabor, " where," as he says, "Jesus for- 
merly gave the three a taste of his majesty ;" but I have fully shown, on much better 
•authority, that Tabor was not the mount of the transfiguration ; nor can we value 
highly the fact, that " habet veteris famae auctoritatem," for we have abundant 
•reason to think that in such matters, "the authority of ancient tradition" is not worth 
much. 

There are better reasons, however, for believing Tabor to have been the mountain 
in Galilee, where Christ met his disciples. These are, the fact that it was near the 
lake where he seems to have been just before, and was in the direction of some of his 
former places of resort, and was near the homes of his disciples. None of the objec- 
tions that I brought against its being the mount of the transfiguration, can bear against 
this supposition, but on similar grounds I now agree with the common notion. 

Paul us suggests Mount Carmel, as a very convenient place for such a meeting of 
so many persons who wished to assemble unseen, it being full of caverns, in which 
they might assemble out of view ; while Tabor is wholly open (ganz offen) and 
■exposed to view ; for it is evident that all the exhibitions of Christ to his disciples 
after his resurrection, were very secret. For this reason Ilosenmueller remarks, that 
Jesus probably appointed some mountain which was lonely and destitute of inhabit- 
ants, for the meeting. But Tabor is, I should think, sufficiently retired for the priva- 
cy which was so desirable, and certainly is capable of accommodating a great number 
=of persons on its top, so that they could not be seen from below. The objection to 
Carmel is, that it was a great distance off, on the sea coast, and should therefore be 
rejected for the same reasons which caused us to reject Tabor for the transfiguration. 

THE ASCENSION. 

The only one of his other interviews with them, to which we can 
follow them, is the last, when he stood with them at Bethany, on 
the eastern slope of Mount Olivet, about a mile from Jerusalem, 
where he passed away from their eyes to the glory now consum- 
mated by the complete events of his life and death. Being there 



125 

with them, he commanded them not to depart from Jerusalem, 
but to wait for the promised Comforter from the Father, of which 
he had so often spoken to them. " For John truly baptized with 
water, but you shall be baptized with the Holy Ghost not many 
days hence." Herein he expressed a beautiful figure, powerfully 
impressive to them, though to most common perceptions perhaps, 
not so obvious. In the beginning of those bright revelations of 
the truth which had been made to that age, John, the herald and 
precursor of a greater preacher, had made a bold, rough outset in 
the great work of evangelization. The simple, striking truths 
which he brought forward, were forcibly expressed in the ceremo- 
ny which he introduced as the sign of conversion ; as the defile- 
ments of the body were washed away in the water, so were the 
deeper pollutions of the soul removed by the inward cleansing ef- 
fected by the change which followed the full knowledge and feel- 
ing of the truth. The gross and tangible liquid which he made 
the sign of conversion, was also an emblem of the rude and palpa- 
ble character of the truths which he preached ; so too, the final to- 
ken which the apostles of Jesus, when at last perfectly taught and 
equipped, should receive his the consecrated and regenerated lead- 
ers of the gospel host, was revealed in a form and in a substance 
as uncontrollably and incalculably above the heavy water, as their 
knowledge, and faith, and hope were greater than the dim fore- 
shadowing given by the baptist, of good things to come. Water 
is a heavy fluid, capable of being seen, touched, tasted, weighed 
and poured ;' it has all the grosser and more palpable properties 
of matter. But the air is, even to us, and seemed more particularly 
to the ancients, beyond the apprehension of most of the senses, by 
which the properties of bodies are made known to man. We can- 
not see it, or at least are not commonly conscious of its visibility ; 
yet we feel its power to terrify, and to comfort, and see the evi- 
dences of its might in the ruins of many of the works of man and 
of nature, which oppose its movements. The sources of its power 
too, seem to a common eye, to be within itself, and when it rises 
in storms and whirlwind, its motions seem like the capricious vo- 
litions of a sentient principle within it. But water, whenever it 
moves, seems only the inanimate mass which other agents put in 
motion. The awful dash of the cataract is but the continued fall 
of a heavy body impelled by gravity, and even " when the myriad 
voices of ocean roar," the mighty cause of the storm is the unseen 
power of the air, which shows its superiority in the scale of sub- 

17 



126 PETER'S DISCIPLESHIP, 

stances, by setting in terrible and overwhelming motion the bound' 
less deep, that, but for this viewless and resistless agency, would 
forever rest, a level plain, without a wrinkle on its face. To the 
hearers of Christ more particularly, the air in its motions, was a 
most mysterious agency, — a connecting link between powers ma- 
terial and visible, and those too subtle for any thing but pure 
thought to lay hold of. " The wind blew where it would, and 
they heard the sound thereof, but could not tell whence it came 
or whither it went." They might know that it blew from the 
north toward the south, or from the east toward the west, or the 
reverse of these ; but the direction from which it came could not 
point out to them the place where it first arose, in its unseen pow- 
er, to pass over the earth, — a source of ceaseless wonder, to the 
learned and unlearned alike. This was the mighty and myste- 
rious agency which Jesus Christ now chose as a fit emblem to rep- 
resent in language, to his apostles, that power from on high so of- 
ten promised. Yet clear as was this image, and often as he had 
warned them of the nature of the duties for which this power was 
to fit them, — in spite of all the deep humiliation which their proud 
earthly hopes had lately suffered, there were still in their hearts, 
deep-rooted longings after the restoration of the ancient dominion 
of Israel, in which they once firmly expected to share. So their 
question on hearing this charge and renewed promise of power 
hitherto unknown, was, " Lord, wilt thou not at this time restore 
the kingdom to Israel ?" Would not this be a satisfactory comple- 
tion of that triumph just achieved over the grave, to which the 
vain malice of his foes had sent him? Could his power to do it be 
now be doubted 1 Why then, should he hesitate at what all so 
earnestly and confidently hoped l But Jesus was not to be called 
down from heaven to earth on such errands, nor detained from 
higher glories by such prayers. He knew that this last foolish 
fancy of earthly dominion was to pass away from their minds for- 
ever, as soon as they had seen the event for which he had now 
assembled them. He merely said to them, " It is not for you to 
know the times or the seasons which the Father has appointed, 
according to his own. judgment." Jesus knew that, though the 
minds of his disciples were not then sufficiently prepared to appre- 
hend the nature of his heavenly kingdom, yet they, after his depart- 
ure, becoming better instructed and illuminated by a clearer light 
of knowledge, would of their own accord, lay aside that precon- 
ceived notion about his earthly reign, and would then become fully 



peter's discipleship. 12? 

impressed with those things of which he had long before warned 
them, while they were still in the enjoyment of his daily teachings. 
Being now about to bid them farewell, — lest by entirely cutting off 
their present hope, he might for a time overwhelm them, — he so 
moderated his answer, as not to extinguish utterly all hope of the 
kingdom expected by them, nor yet give them reason to think that 
such a dominion as they hoped for, was to be established. He 
therefore, to their inquiries whether he would at that time restore 
the ancient kingdom of Israel, replied that it was not for them to 
know the times which the Father had reserved in his own coun- 
sels, for the completion of that event. But he went, on to inform 
them of something which was for them to know. " You shall re- 
ceive power, when the Holy Ghost shall have come upon you ; 
and you shall be witnesses of these things for me, both in Jerusa- 
lem, and in all Judea, and in Samaria, and even to the farthest 
parts of the earth." And when he had spoken these things, he 
was taken away from them as they were looking at him, for a 
cloud received him out of their sight. And while they looked 
earnestly towards heaven, as he went up, behold, two men stood 
by them in white apparel, and said, " Ye men of Galilee, why 
stand ye gazing up into heaven ? This same Jesus who is taken 
up from you into heaven, shall so come in like manner as you 
have seen him go into heaven." They now understood that they 
had parted from their loved Master forever, in earthly form; yet 
the consolations afforded by this last promise of the attendant 
spirits, were neither few nor small. To bring about that bright 
return, in whose glories they were to share, was the great task to 
which they devoted their lives ; and they went back to Jerusalem, 
sorrowful indeed for the removal of their great guide and friend, 
but not sorrowing as those who have no hope. 

To Bethany. — This place was on the Mount of Olives, probably near its summit, 
and perhaps within sight of Jerusalem. See notes on pp. 90 and 95. 

Here ceased their course of instruction under their Divine Mas- 
ter ; laying down their character as Disciples, they now took up 
the higher dignity, responsibility and labors of Apostles. Here too 
ceases the record of "Peter's discipleship ;" — no longer a 
learner wad follower of any one on earth, he is exalted to the new 
duties and dangers of the Apostleship, of which the still more 
interesting story here begins ; and he must henceforth bear the 
new character and title of " Peter the teacher and leader." 



128 peter's apostleship. 

II. PETERS APOSTLESHIP: 

OR 

PETER THE TEACHER AND LEADER. 

THE PENTECOST. 

After the ascension, all the apostles seem to have removed their 
families and business from Galilee, and to have made Jerusalem 
their permanent abode. From this time no more mention is made 
of any part of Galilee as the home of Peter or his friends ; and 
even the lake, with its cities, so long hallowed by the presence and 
the deeds of the son of man, was thenceforth entirely left to the 
low and vulgar pursuits which the dwellers of that region had 
formerly followed upon it, without disturbance from the preach- 
ing and the miracles of the Nazarene. The apostles finding them- 
selves in Jerusalem the object of odious, or at best of contemptu- 
ous notice from the great body of the citizens, being known as 
Galileans and as followers of the crucified Jesus, therefore settled 
themselves in such a manner as would best secure their comfort- 
able and social subsistence. When they came back to the city 
from Galilee, (having parted from their Master on the Olive mount, 
about a mile off,) they went up into a chamber in a private house, 
where all the eleven passed the whole time, together with their 
wives, and the women who had followed Jesus, and with Mary, 
the mother of Jesus, and his brethren. These all continued with 
one accord in this place, with prayer and supplication, at the same 
time no doubt comforting and instructing one another in those 
things, of which a knowledge would be requisite or convenient for 
the successful prosecution of their great enterprise, on which they 
were soon to embark. In the course of these devout and studious 
pursuits, the circumstances and number of those enrolled by Christ 
in the apostolic band, became naturally a subject of consideration 
and discussion, and they were particularly led to notice the gap 
made among them, by the sad and disgraceful defection of Judas 
Iscariot. This deficiency the Savior had not thought of sufficient 
importance to need to be filled by a nomination made by him, du- 
ring the brief period of his stay among them after his resurrec- 
tion, when far more weighty matters called his attention. It was 
their wish however, to complete their number as originally consti- 
tuted by their Master, and in reference to the immediate execution 



peter's apostleship. 129 

of this pious and wise purpose, Peter, as their leader, forcibly and 
eloquently addressed them, when not less than one hundred and 
twenty were assembled. The details of his speech, and the con- 
clusion of the business, are deferred to the account of the lives of 
those persons who Avere the subjects of the transaction. In men- 
tioning- it now, it is only worth while to notice, that Peter here 
stands most distinctly and decidedly forward, as the director 
of the whole affair, and such was his weight in the management 
of a matter so important, that his words seem to have had the 
force of law ; for without further discussion, commending the de- 
cision to God in prayer, they adopted the action suggested by 
him, and filled the vacancy with the person apparently designated 
by God. In the faithful and steady confidence that they were 
soon to receive, according to the promise of their risen Lord, some 
new and remarkable gift from above, which was to be to them at 
once the seal of their divine commission, and their most important 
equipment for their new duties, the apostles waited in Jerusalem 
until the great Jewish feast of the pentecost. This feast is so 
named from a Greek word meaning "fiftieth" because it always 
came on the fiftieth day after the day of the passover feast. Jesus 
had finally disappeared from his disciples about forty days after 
his resurrection, — that is forty-two days after the great day of the 
passover, which will leave just one week for the time which pass- 
ed between the ascension and the day of pentecost. These seven 
days the apostolic assembly had passed in such pursuits as might 
form the best preparation for the great event they were expecting. 
Assembled in their sacred chamber, they occupied themselves in 
prayer and exhortation. At length the great feast arrived, on 
which the Jews, according to the special command of Moses, com- 
memorated the day, on which of old God gave the law to their 
fathers, on Mount Sinai, amid thunder and lightning. On this fes- 
tal occasion, great numbers of Jews who had settled in different 
remote parts of the world, were in the habit of coming back to 
their father-land, and their holy city, to renew their devotion in 
the one great temple of their ancient faith, there to offer up the 
sacrifices of gratitude to their fathers' God, who had prospered them 
even in strange lands among the heathen. The Jews were then, 
as now, a wandering, colonizing people wherever they went, yet 
remained perfectly distinct in manners, dress and religion, never 
mixing in marriage with the people among whom they dwelt, but 
every where bringing up a true Israelitish race, to worship the 



130 peter's afosti.eship. 

God of Abraham with a pure religion, imcontaminated by the idol- 
atries around them. There was hardly any part of the world, 
where Roman conquest had planted its golden eagles, to which 
Jewish mercantile enterprise did not also push its adventurous 
way, in the steady pursuit of gainful traffic. The three grand 
divisions of the world swarmed with these faithful followers of the 
true law of God, and from the remotest regions, each year, gath- 
ered a fresh host of pilgrims, who came from afar, many for the 
first time, to worship the God of their fathers in their fathers' land. 
Amid this fast gathering throng, the feeble band of the apostles, 
unknown and unnoticed, were assembled in their usual place of 
meeting, and employed in their usual devout occupations. Not 
merely the twelve, but all the friends of Christ in Jerusalem, to the 
number of one hundred and twenty, were here awaiting, in prayer, 
the long promised Comforter from the Father. All of a sudden, 
the sound of a mighty wind, rushing upon the building, roared 
around them, and filled the apartments with its appalling noise, 
rousing them from the religious quiet to which they had given 
themselves up. Nor were their ears alone made sensible of the 
approach of some strange event. In the midst of the gathering 
gloom which the wind-driven clouds naturally spread over all, 
flashes of light were seen by them, and lambent flames playing 
around, lighted at last upon them. At once the anxious prayers 
with which they had awaited the coming of the Comforter, were 
hushed : they needed no longer to urge the fulfilment of their 
Master's word ; for in the awful rush of that mighty wind, they 
recognized the voice they had so long expected, and in that sol- 
emn sound, they knew the tone of the promised Spirit. The ap- 
proach of that feast-day must have raised their expectations of 
this promised visitation to the highest pitch. They knew that 
this great national festival was celebrated in commemoration of 
the giving of the old law on Mount Sinai to their fathers, through 
Moses, and that no occasion could be more appropriate or impres- 
sive for the full revelation of the perfect law which the last re- 
storer of Israel had come to teach and proclaim. The ancient law 
had been given on Sinai, in storm and thunder and fire ; when 
therefore, they heard the roar of the mighty wind about them, the 
firm conviction of the approach of their new revelation must have 
possessed their minds at once. They saw too, the dazzling flash 
of flame among them, and perceived, with awe, strange masses of 
light, in the shape of tongues, settling with a tremulous motion on 



feter's apostleship. 131 

the head of each of them. The tempest and the fire were the 
symbols of God's presence on Sinai of old, and from the same 
signs joined with these new phenomena, they now learned that 
the aid of God was thus given to equip them with the powers and 
energies needful for their success in the wider publication of the 
doctrine of Christ. With these tokens of a divine presence around 
them, their feelings and thoughts were raised to the highest pitch 
of joy and exultation ; and being conscious of a new impulse work- 
ing in them, they were seized with a sacred glow of enthusiasm, so 
that they gave utterance to these new emotions in words as new to 
them as their sensations, and spoke in different languages, prais- 
ing God for this glorious fulfilment of his promise, as this holy in- 
fluence inspired them. 

An upper room. — The location of this chamber has been the subject of a vast quan- 
tity of learned discussion, a complete view of which would far exceed my limits. 
The great point mooted has been, whether this place was in a private house or in the 
temple. The passage in Luke xxiv. 53, where it is said that the apostles " were con- 
tinually in the temple, praising and blessing God," has led many to suppose that the 
same writer, in this continuation of the gospel story, must have had reference to some 
part of the temple, in speaking of the upper room as the place of their abode. In 
the Acts ii. 46, also, he has made a similar remark, which I can best explain when 
that part of the story is given. The learned Krebsius (Obs. in N. T. e Jos. pp. 162 — 
164) has given a fine argument, most elegantly elaborated with quotations from Jose- 
phus, in which he makes it apparently quite certain from the grammatical construc- 
tion, and from the correspondence of terms with Josephus's description of the temple, 
that this upper room must have been there. It is true, that Josephus mentions par- 
ticularly a division of the inner temple, on the upper side of it, under the name of 
'wspyov, (hyper 0011,} which is the word used by Luke in this passage, but Krebsius in 
attempting to prove this to be a place in which the disciples might be constantly as- 
sembled, has made several errors in the plan of the later temple, which I have not 
time to point out, since there are other proofs of the impossibility of their meeting 
there, which will take up all the space I can bestow on the subject. Krebsius has fur- 
thermore overlooked entirely the following part of the text in Acts i. 13, where it is 
said, that when they returned to Jerusalem, " they went up into an upper room where 
they had been staying" in Greek, ( ov naav KarajxevovTes, (hou esan katameno7ites,)com. trans. 
" they abode.'" The true force of this use of the present participle with the verb of 
existence is repeated action, as is frequently true of the imperfect of that verb in 
such combinations. Kuinoel justly gives it this force, — " ubi commorari sive conve- 
nire solebant." But the decisive proof against the notion that this room was in the 
temple, is this. In specifying the persons there assembled, it is said, (Acts i. 14,) that 
the disciples were assembled there with the women of the company. Now it is most 
distinctly specified in all descriptions of the temple, that the women were always 
limited to one particular division of the temple, called the " women's court." Jose- 
phus is very particular in specifying this important fact in the arrangements of the 
temple. (Jew. War, V. 5. 2.) "A place on this part of the temple specially devoted 
to the religious use of the women, being entirely separated from the rest by a wall, it 
was necessary that there should be another entrance to this. * * * There were 
on the other sides of this plase two gates, one on the north and one on the south, 
through which the court of the women was entered; for women were not allowed to 
enter through any others." (Also V. 5, 6.) " But women, even when pure, were not 
allowed to pass within the limit before mentioned." This makes it evident beyond 
all doubt, that women could never be allowed to assemble with men in this upper- 
chamber within the forbidden precincts, to which indeed it was impossible for them 
to have access, entering the temple through two private doors, and using only one 
court, which was cut off by an impenetrable wall, from all communication with any 
other part of the sacred inclosure. 



132 PETER/3 APOSTLESftlP. 

This seems to me an argument abundantly sufficient to upset all that has ever beefi 
said in favor of the location of this upper apartment within the temple; and my only 
wonder is, that so many learned critics should have perplexed themselves and others 
with various notions about the matter, when this single fact is so perfectly conclusive. 

The upper room, then, must have been in some private house, belonging to some 
wealthy friend of Christ, who gladly received the apostles within his walls. Every 
Jewish house had in its upper story a large room of this sort, which served as a di- 
ning-room, (Mark xiv. 15 : Luke xxii. 12,) a parlor, or an oratory for private or so- 
cial worship. (See Bloomfield's Annot. Acts i. 13.) Some have very foolishly sup- 
posed this to have been the house of Simon the leper, (Matt, xxvi, 6,) but his house 
was in Bethany, and therefore b}- no means answers the description of their entering 
it after their return to Jerusalem from Bethany. Others, with more probability, the 
house of Nicodemus, the wealthy Pharisee ; but the most reasonable supposition, 
perhaps, is that of Beza. who concludes this to have been the house of Mary, the 
mother of John Mark, which we know to have been afterwards used as a place of 
religious assembly. (Acts xii. 12.) Others have also, with some reason, suggested 
that this was no doubt the same " upper room furnished," in which Jesus had eaten the 
last supper with his disciples. These two last suppositions are not inconsistent with 
each other. 

Tongues of fire. — This is a classic Hebrew expression for " a lambent flame," and is 
the same used by Isaiah, (v. 24,) where the Hebrew is JPK V\wh {leshon esh,) "a tongus 

of fire ;" — com. trans., simply " fire." In that passage there seems to be a sort of po- 
etical reference to the tongue, as an organ used in devouring food, (" as the tongue 
of fire devoureth the stubble,") but there is abundant reason to believe that the expres- 
sion was originally deduced from the natural similitude of a rising flame to a tongue, 
being pointed and flexible, as w r ell as waving in its outlines, and pla)'ing about with 
a motion like that of licking, whence the Latin expression of" a lambent flame." — 
from lambo, " lick." Wetstein aptly observes, that a flame of fire, in the form of a 
divided tongue, was a sign of the gift of tongues, corresponding to the Latin ex- 
pression bilinguis, and the Greek Siy\u>aaos, (diglossos.) " two-tongued," as applied 
to persons skilled in a plurality of languages. He also with his usual classic richness, 
gives a splendid series of quotations illustrative of this idea of a lambent flame deno- 
ting the presence of divine favor, or inspiration imparted to the person about whom 
the symbol appeared. Bloomfield copies these quotations, and also draws illustrations 
in point, from other sources. 

My own opinion of the nature of this whole phenomenon is that of Michaelis, Ro- 
senmueller, Paulus and Kuinoel. — that a tremendous tempest actually descended at 
the time, bringing down clouds highly charged with electricity, which was not dis- 
charged in the usual mode, by thunder and lightning, but quietly streamed from the 
ail to the earth, and wherever it passed from the air upon any tolerable conductor, it 
made itself manifest in the darkness occasioned by the thick clouds, in the form of 
those pencils of rays, wirh which every one is familiar wmo has seen electrical exper- 
iments in a dark room; and which are well described by the expression, " cloven 
tongues of fire." The temple itself being covered and spiked with gold, the best of 
all conductors, would quietly draw off a vast quantity of electricity, which, passing 
through the building, would thus manifest itself on those within the chambers of the 
temple, if we may suppose the apostles to have been there assembled. These ap- 
pearances are very common in peculiar electrical conditions of the air, and there are 
many of my readers, no doubt, who have seen them. At sea, they are often seen at 
night on the ends of the masts and yards, and are well known to sailors by the name 
which the Portuguese give them, " corpos santos," — "holy bodies," — connecting them 
with some popish superstitions. A reference to the large quotations given by Wet- 
stein and Bloomfield, will show that this display at the pentecost is not the only occa- 
sion on which these electric phenomena were connected with spiritual mysteries. No 
one would have the slightest hesitation in explaining these passages in other credible 
historians, by this physical view ; and I know no rule in logic or common sense,— no 
religious doctrine or theological principle, which compels me to explain two precise- 
ly similar phenomena of this character, in two totally different ways, because one of 
them is found in a heathen history, and the other in a sacred and inspired record. 
The vehicle thus chosen was not unworthy of making the peculiar manifestation of 
the presence of God, and of the outpouring of his spirit ; — nor was it an unprecedented 
mode of his display. The awful thunder which shook old Sinai, and the lightnings 
which dazzled the eyes of the amazed Israelites, were real thunder and lightning, 



133 

nor will an honest and reverent interpretation of the sacred text allow us to pro- 
nounce them acoustical and optical delusions. If they were real thunder and light- 
ning, they were electrical discharges, and cannot be conceived of in any other way. 
Why should we hesitate at the notion ihat He who " holds the winds in the hollow of 
his hand," and " makes a way for the lightning of thunder," should use these same 
awful instruments as the symbols of his presence, to strike awe into the hearts of men, 
making the physical the token of the moral power ; and accomplishing the deep pro- 
phetic meaning of the solemn words of the Psalmist, " He walks upon the wings of 
the wind— he makes the winds his messengers — the lightnings his ministers." For 
this is the just translation of Ps. civ. 4. See Lowth, Clarke, Whitby, Calmet, Thom- 
son, &c. But Jaspis, Bloomfield, Stuart, &c, support the common version. 

Were all assembled, fyc — It has been questioned whether this term, "«ZZ," refers to 
the one hundred and twenty, or merely to the apostles, who are the persons mentioned 
in the preceding verse, (Acts i. 26, ii. 1,) and to whom it might be grammatically 
limited. There is nothing to hinder the supposition that all the brethren were pres- 
ent, and Chrysostom, Jerome, Augustine and other ancient fathers, confirm this view. 
The place in which they met, need not, of course, be the same where the events of 
the preceding chapter occurred, but was very likely some one of the thirty apart- 
ments, (oiKot, oikoi, Jos. Ant. viii. 3. 2,) which surrounded the inner court of the tem- 
ple, where the apostles might very properly assemble at the third hour, which was 
the hour of morning prayer, and which is shown in verse 15, to have been the time 
of this occurrence. Besides, it is hard to conceive of this vast concourse of persons 
(verse 41,) as occurring in any other place than the temple, in whose vast and throng- 
ed courts it might easily happen, for Josephus says " that the apartments around the 
courts opened into each other," n<sav Sia a>A>?W, " and there were entrances to them 
on both sides, from the gate of the temple," thus affording- a ready access on any sud- 
den noise attracting attention towards them. 

Foreign Jews staying in Jerusalem. — The phrase " dwelling," (Acts ii. 5,) in the 
Greek KaroiKowres, (katoikountes,) does not necessarily imply a fixed residence, as 
Wolf and others try to make it appear, but is used in the LXX. in the sense of tem- 
porary residence ; and seems here to be applied to foreign Jews, who chose to remain 
there, from the passover to the pentecost, but whose home was not in Jerusalem; for 
the context speaks of them as dwellers in Mesopotamia, &c. (verse 9.) A distinction 
is also made between two sorts of Jews among those who had come from Rome, — the 
Jews by birth and the proselytes, (verse 10,) showing that the Mosaic faith was flour- 
ishing, and making converts from the Gentiles there. 

peter's sermon. 
This wonderful event took place in the chamber of the tem- 
ple, which they- had used as a place of worship ever since their 
Lord's departure. As the whole temple was now constantly 
thronged with worshipers, who were making their offerings on 
this great feast day, this room in which the followers of Jesus were 
devoutly employed, must, as well as all the others, have been vis- 
ited by new comers : for the mere prior occupation of the room 
by the disciples, could not entitle them to exclude from a public 
place of that kind any person who might choose to enter. The 
multitude of devotees who filled all parts of the temple, soon 
heard of what was going on in this apartment, and came 
together to see and hear for themselves. When the inquiring 
crowds reached the spot, they found the followers of Christ break- 
ing out in loud expressions of praise to God, and of exhortation, 
each in such a language as best suited his powers of expression, 
not confining themselves to the Hebrew, which in all places of 

IS 



134 PETEE/S APOSTLESHIP. 

public worship, and especially in Jerusalem oil the great festivals? 
was the only language of devotion. Among the crowds that 
thronged to the place of this strange occurrence, were Jews from 
many distant regions, whose language or dialects were as widely 
various as the national names which they bore. Parthians, and 
Medes, and Elamites, — those who dwelt in Mesopotamia, Judea, 
Cappadocia, Pontus, Asia, Phrygia, Pamphylia, Egypt and Afri- 
ca, and some even from distant Rome, were all among those who 
heard the spirit-moving language of the disciples. Some of the 
more scrupulous among these foreign Jews, were probably, not- 
withstanding their amazement, somewhat offended at this profa- 
nation of worship, in the public use of these heathen languages 
for the purposes of devotion ; and with a mixture of wonder and 
displeasure they asked, " Are not all these men who are talking 
in these various languages, Galileans J How then are they able 
to show such an immense diversity of expression, so that all of 
us, even those from the most distant countries, hear them in our 
various languages, setting forth the praises of God ? : ' And they 
were all surprised and perplexed, and said one to another, " What 
will this come to V But to some who were present, the whole 
proceeding was so little impressive, and had so little appearance 
of anything miraculous, that they were moved only to expres- 
sions of contempt, and said, in a tone of ridicule, " These men 
are drunk on sweet wine/ 1 This seems to show that to them 
there was no conclusive evidence of Divine agency in this speak- 
ing in various languages ; and they, no doubt, supposed that 
among these Galileans were foreigners also from many other 
parts of the world, who, mingling with Christ's disciples, had 
joined in their devotions, and caught their enthusiasm. Seeing 
this assembly thus made up, now occupied in speaking violently 
and confusedly in these various languages, they at once concluded 
that they were under the influence of some artificial exhila- 
rant, and supposed that during this great festal occasion they had 
been betrayed into some unseasonable jollity, and were now un- 
der the excitement of hard drinking. Such as took this cool 
view of the matter, therefore, immediately explained the whole 
by charging the exc'ted speakers with drunkenness. But Peter, 
on hearing this scandalous charge, rose up, as the leader and de- 
fender of these objects of public notice, and repelled the contempt- 
uous suggestion that he and his companions had been abusing the 
occasion of rational religious enjoyment, to the purposes of in- 



peter's apostleship. 135 

temperate and riotous merriment. Galling on all present for 
their attention, both foreign Jews and those settled in Jerusalem, 
he told them that the violent emotions which had excited their 
surprise could not be caused by wine, as it was then but nine 
o'clock in the morning, and as they well knew, it was contrary 
to all common habits of life to suppose that before that early 
hour, these men could have been exposed to any such temptation. 
They knew that the universal fashion of the devout Jews was to 
take no food whatever on the great days of public worship, until 
after their return from morning prayers in the temple. How 
then could these men, thus devoutly occupied since rising, have 
found opportunity to indulge in intoxicating drinks ? 

Peter then proceeded to refer them for a more just explanation 
of this strange occurrence, to the long recorded testimonies of the 
ancient prophets, which most distinctly announced such powerful 
displays of religious zeal and knowledge, as about to happen in 
those later days, of which the present moment seemed the begin- 
ning. He quoted to them a passage from Joel, which pointedly 
set forth these and many other wonders with the distinctness of 
reality, and showed them how all these striking words were con- 
nected with the fate of that Jesus whom they had so lately sacri- 
ficed. He now, for the first time, publicly declared to them, that 
this Jesus, whom they had vainly subjected to a disgraceful death, 
had by the power of God been raised from the grave to a glorious 
and immortal life. Of this fact he assured them that all the dis- 
ciples were the witnesses, having seen him with their own eyes 
after his return to life. He now showed them in what manner 
the resurrection of Jesus might be explained and illustrated by 
the words of David, and how the psalm itself might be made to 
appear in a new light, by interpreting it in accordance with these 
recent events. He concluded this high-toned and forcible appeal 
to scripture and to fact, by calling them imperatively to learn and 
believe. " Let all the house of Israel know, then, that God has 
made this Jesus, whom yon have crucified, both Lord and Christ." 
This declaration, thus solemnly made and powerfully supported, 
in connection with the surprising circumstances which had just 
occurred, had a most striking and convincing effect on the hearers, 
and almost the whole multitude giving way to their feelings of 
awe and compunction, being stung with the remembrance of the 
share they had had in the murder of Jesus, cried out, as with one 
voice, " Brethren, what shall we do ?" Peter's instant reply was, 



136 peter's apostleship. 

u Change your mind, and be each one of you baptized to the 
name of Jesus Christ, for the remission of your sins ; and you 
shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit." That same divine in- 
fluence, whose in-workings had just been so wonderfully display- 
ed before their eyes, was now promised to them, as the seal of 
Christ's acceptance of the offer of themselves in the preliminary 
sign of baptism. To them and to their children, upon whom, 
fifty days before, they had solemnly invoked the curse of the 
murdered Redeemer's blood, was this benignant promise of par- 
doning love now made ; and not only to them, but to all, how- 
ever far off in place or in feeling, whom their common Lord and 
God should call to him. Inspired with the glorious prospect of 
success now opening to him, and moved to new earnestness by 
their devout and alarmed attention, Peter zealously went on, and 
spoke to them many other words, of which the sacred historian 
has given us only the brief but powerful concluding exhortation, — 
" Suffer yourselves to be saved from this perverse generation," — 
from those who had involved themselves and their race in the 
evils resulting to them from their wicked rejection of the truth 
offered by Jesus. The whole Jewish nation stood at that time 
charged with the guilt of rejecting the Messiah ; nor could any 
individual be cleared from his share of responsibility for the 
crime, except by coming out and distinctly professing his faith in 
Christ. 

THE CHURCH'S INCREASE. 

The success which followed Peter's first effort in preaching 
the gospel of his murdered and risen Lord, was most cheering. 
Those who heard him on this occasion, gladly receiving his 
words, were baptized, and on that same day converts to the num- 
ber of three thousand were added to the disciples. How must 
these glorious results, and all the events of the day, have lifted 
up the hearts of the apostles, and moved them to new and still 
bolder efforts in their great cause ! They now knew and felt the 
true force of their Master's promise, that they should " be indued 
with power from on high ;" for what less than such power could 
in one day have wrought such a change in the hearts of the 
haughty Jews, as to make them submissive hearers of the fol- 
lowers of the lately crucified Nazarene, and bring over such im- 
mense numbers of converts to the new faith, as to swell the small 
and feeble band of disciples to more than twenty times its former 
size ? Nor did the impression made on this multitude prove to 



Peter's apostleship. 137 

be a mere transient excitement ; for we are assured that " they 
held steadily to the doctrine taught by the apostles, and kept com- 
pany with them in all their daily religious duties and social enjoy- 
ments." So permanent and complete was this change, as to cause 
universal astonishment among those who had not been made the 
subjects of it ; and the number of those who heard the amazing 
story, must have been so much the greater at that time, as there 
was then at Jerusalem so large an assemblage of Jews from almost 
every part of the civilized world. On this account, it seems to 
have been most wisely ordered that this first public preaching of 
the Christian faith, and this great manifestation of its power over 
the hearts of men, should take place on this festal occasion, when 
its influence might at once more widely and quickly spread than 
by any other human means. The foreign Jews then at Jerusa- 
lem, being witnesses of these wonderful things, would not fail, on 
their return home, to give the whole affair a prominent place in 
their account of their pilgrimage, when they recounted their va- 
rious adventures and observations to their inquiring friends. 
Among these visitors, too, were probably some who were them- 
selves on this occasion converted to the new faith, and each one of 
these would be a sort of missionary, preaching Christ crucified to 
his countrymen in his distant home, and telling them of a way 
to God, which their fathers had not known. The many miracles 
wrought by the apostles, as signs of their authority, served to 
swell the fame of the Christian cause, and added new incidents 
to the fast-traveling and far-spreading story, which, wherever it 
went, prepared the people to hear the apostles with interest and 
respect, when, in obedience to their Lord's last charge, they 
should go forth to distant lands, preaching the gospel. 
peter's prominence. 
This vast addition to the assembly of the disciples at Jerusa- 
lem, made it necessary for the apostles to complete some farther 
arrangements, to suit their enlarged circumstances ; and at this 
period the first church of Christ in the world seems to have so 
far perfected its organization as to answer very nearly to the 
modern idea of a permanent religious community. The church 
of Jerusalem was an individual worshiping assembly, that at this 
time met daily for prayer and exhortation, with twelve ministers 
who officiated as occasion needed, without any order of service, 
as far as we know, except such as depended on their individual 
weight of character, their natural abilities or their knowledge of 



1 38 

the doctrines of their Lord. Among these, the three most favor- 
ed by Christ's private instructions would have a natural pre-emi- 
nence, and above all, he who had been especially named as the 
rock on which the church should be built, and as the keeper of 
the keys of the kingdom, and had been solemnly and repeatedly 
commissioned as the pastor and leader of the flock, would now 
maintain an undisputed pre-eminence, unless he should by some 
actual misconduct prove himself unworthy of the rank. Such 
a pre-eminence it is unquestionable that Peter always did main- 
tain among the apostles ; and so decidedly too, that on every occa- 
sion when any thing was to be said or done by them as a body, 
Peter invariably stands out alone, as the undisputed representative 
and head of the whole community. Indeed the whole history of 
the apostles, after the ascension, gives but a single instance in 
which the words of any one of the twelve besides Peter are re- 
corded, or where any one of them, except in that single case, is 
named as having said any thing whatever. On every occasion 
of this sort, the matters referred to were no more the concern of 
Peter than of any other of the twelve, yet they all seem to have 
been perfectly satisfied with quietly giving up the expression of 
their views to him. One instance, indeed, occurs, in which some 
persons attempted to blame his conduct when on a private mis- 
sion, but even then his explanation of his behavior hushed all 
complaint. Often, when he was publicly engaged in the company 
of John, the most beloved of Jesus, and his faithful witness, it 
would seem that if there was any assumption by Peter of more 
than due importance, this distinguished son of Zebedee or his 
equally honored brother would have taken such a share in speak- 
ing and doing, as would have secured them an equal prominence. 
But no such low jealousies ever appear to have arisen among the 
apostles : not one seems to have had a thought about making 
himself an object of public notice, but their common and unani- 
mous care was to advance their great Master's cause, without re- 
ference to individual distinctions. Peter's natural force of cha- 
racter and high place in his Master's confidence, justified the 
ascendency which he on all public occasions claimed as his in- 
disputable right, in which the rest acquiesced without a murmur. 

THE CHRISTIAN COMMUNITY. 

In the constitution of the first church of Christ, there seems to 
have been no other noticeable peculiarity, than the number of its 
ministers, and even this in reality amounted to nothing ; for the 



peter's apostles-hip. 139 

decided pre-eminence and superior qualifications of Peter were 
such as, in effect, to make him the sole pastor and preacher for a 
long time, while the other apostles do not seem to have performed 
any duty much higher than that of mere assistants to him, or ex- 
torters, and perhaps teachers. Still, not a day could pass when 
every one of them would not be required to labor in some way 
for the gospel ; and indeed the sacred historian uniformly speaks 
of them in the plural number, as laboring together and alike in 
the common cause. Thus they went on quietly and humbly la- 
boring, with a pure zeal which was as indifferent to fame and 
earthly honor, as to the acquisition or preservation of earthly 
wealth. They are said to have held all things common, which 
is to be understood, however, not as implying literally that the 
rich renounced all individual right to what they owned, but that 
they stood ready to provide for the needy to the full extent of 
their property, and in that sense, all these pecuniary resources 
were made as common as if they were formally thrown into one 
public stock, out of which every man drew as suited his own 
needs. To an ordinary reader, this passage, taken by itself, 
might seem to convey fully the latter meaning ; but a reference 
to other passages, and to the whole history of the primitive Chris- 
tians, shows clearly, that a real and literal community of goods 
was totally unknown to them, but that in the bold and free lan- 
guage of the age and country, they are said to have " had all 
things in common," just as among us, a man may say to his 
friend, " My house is yours ; — consider every thing I have as your 
own property ;" and yet no one would ever construe this into a 
surrender of his individual rights of possession. So the wealthy 
converts to the Christian faith sold their estates and goods, as oc- 
casion required, for the sake of having ready money to relieve the 
wants of those who had no means of support. Thus provided 
for, the apostles steadily pursued their great work, passing the 
greater part of every day in the temple ; but taking their food at 
home, they ate what was so freely and generously provided, with 
thankful and unanxious hearts, praising God and having favor 
with all the people. In these happy and useful employments 
they continued, every day finding new sources of enjoyment and 
new encouragement, in the accession of redeemed ones to their 
blessed community. 

Taking their food at home. — This is my interpretation of «Xwvre« tear* oIkov aprov^ 
(Monies kaV oikon arton.) Acts ii. 46, com. trans. K breaking bread from house to 



140 Peter's apostleship. 

house," a version which is still supported by many names of high authority ; but the 
attendant circumstances here seem to justify this variation from them. A reference 
to the passage will show that the historian is speaking of their regular unanimous 
attendance in the temple, and sa3 r s, " they attended every day with one accord in the 
temple,'' that is, during the regular hours of daily worship, but as they would not 
suffer untimely devotion to interfere with their reasonable conveniences, he adds 
" they broke bread," (a Hebraistic form of expression for simply " taking food,") "at 
home, and partook of their food in humility and thankfulness." This seems to me 
to require a sort of opposition in sense between e upov, (Jiieron,) " temple," and o1ko$, 
(oikos,) " house" or " home," for it seems as if the writer of the Acts wished in these 
few words, to give a complete account of the manner in which they occupied them- 
selves, devoting all their time to public devotion in the temple except that, as was 
most seemly, they returned to their houses to take their neeessary food, which they 
did humbly and joyfully. But the distributive force which some wish to put upon 
kut o\kov, by translating' it " from house to house," is one which does not seem to be 
required at all by any thing in the connection, and one which needs a vast deal of 
speculation and explanation to make it appear why they should go " from house to 
house," about so simple a matter of fact as that of eating their victuals, which every 
man could certainly do to best advantage at one steady boarding-place. That the 
expression, nar oIkov, most commonly means " at home," is abundantly proved by 
standard common Greek usage, as shown in the best Lexicons. But Kara, in con- 
nexion with a singular noun, has the distributive force only when the noun itself 
is of such a character and connection in the sentence as to require this meaning. 
Thus Kara fjirjva, would hardly ever be suspected of any other meaning than " month- 
ly," or " every month," or " from month to month ;" — so Kara noXetg means " from city 
to city," but the singular Kara no\iv, almost uniformly means " in a city," without any 
distributive application, except where the other words in the sentence imply this idea. 
(Acts xv. 21 : xx. 23.) But here the simple common meaning of the proposition 
Kara, when governing the accusative, (that is, the meaning of "at" or "in" a place,) 
is not merely allowed, but required by the other words in the connection, in order to 
give a meaning which requires no other explanation, and which corresponds to the 
word " temple" in the other clause ; for the whole account seems to require an oppo- 
sition in these words, as describing the two places where the disciples passed their 
time. 

There are great names, however, opposed to this view, which seem enough to 
•overpower almost any testimony that can be brought in defense of an interpretation 
which they reject. Among these are Kuinoel, Rosenmueller, Ernesti, and Bloom- 
field, whose very names will perhaps weigh more with many, than the hasty state- 
ment of the contrary view which I am able here to give. Yet I am not wholly with- 
out the support of high authorities ; for De Dieu, Bengel, Heinrichs, Hammond, 
and Oecumenius, reject the distributive sense here. 

THE CURE OF THE CRIPPLE. 

In the course of these regular religious observances, about the 
same time or soon after the events just recorded, Peter and John 
went up to the temple to pray, at three o'clock in the afternoon, 
the usual hour for the second public prayers. As they went in 
at the outer gate of the temple, which being made of polished 
Corinthian brass, was for its splendor called the Beautiful, 
their attention was called to one of the objects of pity which 
were so common on those great days of assembly, about the 
common places of resort. A man, who, by universal testimony, 
had been a cripple from his birth, was lying in a helpless attitude 
at this public entrance, in order to excite the compassion of the 
crowds who were constantly passing into the temple, and were in 
that place so much under the influence of religious feeling as to 



peter's apostleship. 141 

be easily moved by pity to exercise so prominent a religious duty 
as charity to the distressed. This man seeing Peter and John 
passing in, asked aims of them in his usual way. They both 
instantly turned their eyes towards him, and looking earnestly on 
him, Peter said, " Look on us." The cripple, supposing from 
their manner that they were about to give something to him, ac- 
cordingly yielded them his interested attention. Peter then said to 
him, " Silver and gold have I none, but I give thee what I have ; 
m the name of Jesus Christ, the Nazarene, rise up and walk." 
As he said this, he took hold of the lame man and raised him ; 
and he at once was able to support himself erect. Leaping up 
in the consciousness of strength, he stood and walked with them 
into the temple, expressing thankfulness and joy as he went, both 
by motions and words. The attention of the worshiping assem- 
bly in the great courts of the temple was at once directed to this 
strange circumstance ; for all who had passed in at the gate, re- 
cognized this vivacious companion of the two apostles, as the 
man who had all his life been a cripple, without the power of 
voluntary locomotion, and they were utterly amazed at his pre- 
sent altered condition and actions. As the recovered cripple, 
leaning on Peter and John, still half doubting his new strength, 
accompanied them on to the porch of Solomon, the whole mul- 
titude ran after them thither, still in the greatest astonishment. 
All eyes were at once turned to the two wonderful men who had 
caused this miraculous change, and the astonishment which this 
deed had inspired must have been mingled with awe and reve- 
rence. Here surely was an occasion to test the honesty and sin- 
cerity of these followers of Christ, when they saw the whole 
people thus unhesitatingly giving to them the divine honor of 
this miraculous cure. What an opportunity for a calculating 
ambition to secure power, favor, and renown ! Yet, with all 
these golden chances placed temptingly within their reach, they, 
so lately longing for the honors of an earthly dominion, but now 
changed by the inworkings of a purer spirit and a holier zeal, 
turned calmly and firmly to the people, utterly disclaiming the 
honor and glory of the deed, but rendering all the praise to their 
crucified Lord. Peter, ever ready with eloquent words, imme- 
diately addressed the awe-struck throngs who listened in silence 
tc his inspired language, and distinctly declared the merit of this 
action to belong not to him and his companion, but to " that same 
Jesus, whom they, but a short time before, had rejected and put 

19 



142 peter's apostleship, 

to death as an impostor/' He then went on to charge them boldly 
with the guilt of this murder, and summing up the evidences and 
consequences of their crime, he called on them to repent, and 
yield to this slain and risen Jesus the honors due to the Messiah. 
It was his name which, through faith in his name, had made this 
lame man strong, and restored him to all his bodily energies, in 
the presence of them all. That name, too, would be equally 
powerful to save them through faith, if they would turn to him, 
the prophet foretold by Moses, by Samuel, and all the prophets 
that followed them, as the restorer and leader of Israel, and 
through whom, as was promised to Abraham, all the families 
of the earth should be blest. But first of all to them, the favored 
children of Abraham, did God send his prophet-son, to bless them 
in turning away every one of them from their iniquities, 

The beautiful gate. — The learned Lightfoot has brought much deep research t<» 
bear on this point, as to the position of this gale and the true meaning of its name • 
yet he is obliged to announce the dubious result in the expressive words, "Inbivio 
hie slamus," (" we here stand at a, fork of the road."} The main difficult}' consists in the 
ambiguous character of the word translated "beautiful," in Greek, Sipaiav, (horaian,) 
which may have the sense of " splendid," " beautiful," or, in better keeping with its 
root, 'Jtya, (Jiora^) " time," it may be made to mean the " gate of time." Now, what 
favors the latter derivation and translation, is the fact that there actually was. as ap- 
pears from the Rabbinical writings, a gate called Hhuldah, (mSin) probably derived 
from iSn (hheledh) "age," " time," " life," — from the Arabic root ^y^^(khaladh) 

" endure," " last," so that it may mean " lasting or permanent." There were two gates 
of this name distinguished by the terms greater and smaller, both opening into the 
court of the Gentiles from the great southern porch or colonnade, called the Royal 
colonnade. Through these, the common way from Jerusalem and from Zion led into 
the temple, and through these would be the natural entrance of the apostles into it. 
This great royal porch, also, where such vast numbers were passing, and which 
afforded a convenient shelter from the weather, would be a convenient place for a 
cripple to post himself in. 

There was, however, another gate, to which the epithet " beautiful" might with 
eminent justice be applied. This is thus described by Josephus. (Jew. War, book 
V. chap. 5, sec. 3.) " Of the gates, nine were overlaid with gold and silver, — * * * 
but there was one on the outside of the temple, made of Corinthian brass, which far 
outshone the plated and gilded ones." This is the gate to which the passage is com- 
monly supposed to refer, and which I have mentioned as the true one in the text, 
without feeling at all decided on the subject, however; for I certainly do think the tes- 
timony favors the gate Huldah, and the primary sense of the word Sipata seems to 
be best consulted by such a construction. 

The porch of Solomon. — Sroa SoXo^wvoc, {stoa Solomonos.) This was the name 
commonly applied to the great eastern colonnade of the temple, which ran along on 
the top of the vast terrace which made the gigantic rampart of Mount Moriah, ri- 
sing from the depth of six hundred feet out of the valley of the Kedron. (See note 
on page 94.) The Greek word, crt>a, (stoa,) com. trans, "porch," does not necessa- 
rily imply an entrance to a building, as is generally true of our modern porches, but 
was a general name for a " colonnade," which is a much better expression for its 
meaning, and would always convey a correct notion of it ; for its primary and uni- 
versal idea is that of a row of columns running along the side of a building, and 
leaving a broad open space between them and the wall, often so wide as to make 
room for a vast assemblage of people beneath the ceiling of the architrave. That 
this was the case in this stoa, appears from Josephus' description given in my note 
on page 95, sec. 1. The stoa might be so placed as to be perfectly inaccessible from 



meter's apostleship. 143 

Without, and thus lose all claim to the name of porch, with the idea of an entrance- 
way. This was exactly the situation and construction of Solomon's stoa, which an- 
swers much better to our idea of & gallery, than of a porch, (See Donnegan, sub 
voc.) 

It took the name of Solomon, from the fact that when the great temple of that 
magnificent king was burned and torn down by the Chaldeans, this eastern terrace, 
as originally constructed by him, was too vast, and too deeply based, to be easily 
made the subject of such a destroying visitation, and consequently was by necessity 
left a lasting monument of the strength and grandeur of the temple which had stood 
upon it. When the second temple was rebuilt, this vast terrace of course became 
again the great eastern foundation of the sacred pile, but received important addi- 
tions to itself, being strengthened by higher and broader walls, and new accessions of 
mounded earth; while over its long trampled and profaned pavement, now beautified 
and renewed with splendid Mosaic, rose the mighty range of gigantic snow-white 
marble columns, which gave it the name and character of a stoa or colonnade, and 
filled the country for a vast distance Math the glory of its pure brightness. (See note 
on page 95. See. also Lightfoot, Disquisit. Chor. cap. vi. § 2.) Josephus further de- 
scribes it, explaining the very name which Luke uses. " And this was a colonnade 
of the outer temple, standing over the verge of a deep valley, on walls four hun- 
dred cubits in highth, built of hewn stones perfectly white, — the length of each stone 
being twenty cubits, and the highth six. It was the work of Solomon, who first built 
the whole temple." (Jos. Ant. XX. viii. 7.) 

THE FIRST SEIZURE OF THE APOSTLES. 

While the apostles were thus occupied in speaking words of 
wisdom to the attentive people, they were suddenly interrupted 
by the entrance of the guards of the temple, who, under the com- 
mand of their captain, came up to the apostles, and seizing them 
in the midst of their discourse, dragged them away to prison, 
where they were shut up, for examination on the next day, be- 
fore the civil and ecclesiastical court of the .Tews. This act of 
violence was committed by order of the priests Avho had the care 
of the temple, more immediately instigated by the Sadducees, who 
were present with the priests and guards when the arrest was 
made. The reason why this sect, in general not active in per- 
secuting Jesus and his followers, were now provoked to this act 
of unusual hostility, was, that the apostles were now preaching a 
doctrine directly opposed to the main principles of Sadducism. 
The assertion that Jesus had actually risen from the dead, so 
boldly made by the apostles, must, if the people believed it, en- 
tirely overthrow their confidence in the Sadducees, who abso- 
lutely denied the existence of a spirit, and the possibility of a 
resurrection of the dead. It was now evening, and the apostles 
being thus dragged away abruptly, in the midst of their dis- 
course, the people were obliged to disperse for the night, without 
hearing all that the speakers had intended to say ; yet even the 
fragment of discourse which they had heard, was not without a 
mighty effect. So convincing and moving were these few words 
of Peter, and so satisfactory was the evidence of the miracle, that 



144 peter's apostleship. 

almost the whole multitude of hearers and beholders seems to 
have come over in a mass to the faith of Christ ; for converts to 
the astonishing number of live thousand are mentioned by the 
sacred historian, who all professed their belief in Jesus, as the 
resurrection and the life, and the healing. 

The guards of the temple, fyc. — This was the same set of men above described, as 
made up of the Levite porters and watchmen of the temple. See note on page 111. 
Also Lightfoot Hor. Heb. in Acts iv. 1. — Rosenmueller, ibid, and Kuinoel. But 
Hammond has made the mistake of supposing this to be a detachment of the Roman 
garrison, 

THEIR FIRST TRIAL. 

The next morning the high court of the Jewish nation, having 
the absolute control of all religious matters, was called together to 
decide upon the fate of the apostles, and probably also of the lame 
man whom they had cured. This great court was the same 
whose members had, by unwearied exertions, succeeded a few 
weeks before, in bringing about the death of Jesus, and were 
therefore little disposed to show mercy to any who Avere trying to 
perpetuate his name, or the innovations which he had attempted 
against the high authority of the ecclesiastical rulers of the nation. 
Of these, the principal were Annas and Caiaphas, the high priests, 
with John and Alexander, and many others, who were entitled to 
a place in the council, by relationship to the high priests. Besides 
these, there were the rulers and elders of the people, and the 
scribes, who had been so active in the condemnation of Jesus. 
These all having arrayed themselves for judgment, the apostles 
and their poor healed cripple were brought in before them, and 
sternly questioned, by what power and by what name they had 
done the thing for which they had been summoned before the 
court. They stood charged with having arrogated to themselves 
the high character and office of teachers, and what was worse, 
reformers, of the national religion, — of that religion which had 
been, of old, received straight from God by the holy prophets, and 
which the wisdom of long-following ages had secured in sanc- 
tity and purity, by entrusting it to the watchful guardianship of 
the most learned and venerable of a hereditary order of priests 
and scholars. And who were they that now proposed to take 
into their hands the religion given by Moses and the prophets, and 
to offer to the people a new dispensation ? Were they deep and 
critical scholars in the law, the prophets, the history of the faith, 
or the stored wisdom of the ancient teachers of the law ? No ; 
they were a set of rude, ill-taught men, who had left their honest 



peter's apostleship. 145 

but low employments in their miserable province, and bad come 
down to Jerusalem with their Master, on the likely enterprise of 
overturning the established order of things in church and state, 
and erecting in its place an administration which, should be mart- 
aged by the Nazarene and his company of Galileans. In this se- 
ditious attempt their Master had been arrested and punished with 
death, and they whose lives were spared by the mere clemency of 
their offended lords, were now so little grateful for this mercy, and 
so little awed by this example of justice, that they had been pub- 
licly haranguing the people in the temple, and imposing on them 
with a show of miracles, all with the view of raising again those 
disturbances which their Master had before excited, but too suc- 
cessfully, by the same means, until his death. In this light would 
the two apostles stand before their stern and angry judges, as soon 
as they were recognized as the followers of Jesus. And how did 
they maintain their ground before this awful tribunal? Peter had, 
only a few weeks before, absolutely denied all connection and ac- 
quaintance with Jesus, when questioned by the mere menials in 
attendance on his Master's trial. And on this solemn occasion, 
tenfold more appalling, did that once false disciple find in his pre- 
sent circumstances, consolations to raise him above his former 
weakness ? Peter was now changed ; and he stood up boldly be- 
fore his overbearing foes, to meet their tyranny by a dauntless as- 
sertion of his rights and of the truth of what fie had preached. 
Freshly indued with a courage from on high, and full of that divine 
influence so lately shed abroad, he and his modest yet firm com- 
panion, replied to the haughty inquiries of his judges, by naming 
as the source of their power, and as their sanction in their work, the 
venerated name of their crucified Master. " Princes of the peo- 
ple and elders of Israel, if we to-day are called to account for this 
good deed which we have done to this poor man, and are to say 
in whose name this man has been cured ; be it known to you all, 
and to all the people of Israel, that in the name of Jesus Christ, 
the Nazarene, whom you crucified, and whom God raised from 
the dead, this man now stands before you, made sound and strong. 
This crucified Jesus is the stone which, though rejected by you 
builders, has become the chief corner stone ; and in no other name 
is there salvation, (or healing ;) for there is no other name given 
under heaven, among men, by which any can be saved," (or heal- 
ed.) When the judges saw the free-spoken manner of Peter and 
John, observing that they were unlearned men. of the lower or- 



146 Peter's apostleship, 

ders, they were surprised ; and noticing them more particularly; 
they recognized them as the immediate personal followers of Jesus, 
remembering now that they had often seen them in his company. 
This recognition made them the more desirous to put a stop to 
their miracles and preaching. Yet there stood the man with them, 
whom they had healed, and with this palpable evidence before 
their eyes, how could the members of the Sanhedrim justify them- 
selves to the people, for any act of positive violence against these 
men ? These high dignitaries were a good deal perplexed, and 
sending the apostles out of the court, they deliberated with one 
another, and inquired, " What can we do with these men ? For 
there is a general impression that they have done a great miracle, 
among all who are now in Jerusalem, both citizens and strangers, 
and we cannot disprove it. Still we cannot let these things go on 
so, nor suifer this heresy to spread any further among the people ; 
and we will therefore charge them threateningly to use the name 
of Jesus no more to the people." Having come to this conclusion,' 
they summoned the prisoners once more into the court, and gave 
them a strict command, never to teach any more nor utter a word 
in the name of Jesus. But Peter and John, undismayed by the 
authority of their great judges, boldly avowed their unshaken 
resolution to proceed as they had begun. " We appeal to you, to 
say if it is right in the sight of God to obey you rather than God. 
For we cannot but speak what we have seen and heard ?" The 
judges being able to bring these stubborn heretics to no terms at 
all, after having threatened them still further, were obliged to let 
them go unpunished, not being able to make out any plea against 
them, that would make it safe to injure them, while the popu- 
lar voice was so loud in their favor, on account of the miracle. 
For the man whom they had so suddenly healed, being more than 
forty years old, and having been lame from his birth, no one could 
pretend to say that such a lameness could be cured by any sud- 
den impression made on his imagination. 

Salvation, (or healing.) — The Greek word herein the original, Ywrvpia, (Soteria,) 
is entirely dubious in its meaning, conveying one or the other of these two ideas ac- 
cording to the sense of the connection ; and here the general meaning of the passage 
is such, that either meaning is perfectly allowable, and equally appropriate to the con- 
text. This ambiguity in the substantive is caused by the same variety of meaning in 
the verb which is the root, Sow, (Sao,) whose primary idea admits of its application 
either to the act of saving from ruin and death, or of relieving any bodily evil, that 
is, of healing. In this latter sense it is frequently used in the New Testament, as in 
Matt. ix. 21, 22. com. trans. " made whole." Also, Mark v. 28, 33 : vi. 56 : x. 52. In 
Luke vii. 50, and in viii. 48, the same expression occurs, both passages being exactly 
alike in Greek ; but the common translation has varied the interpretation in the two 
places, to suit the circumstances, — in the former, " saved thee," and in the latter, 



PETEtt's APOSTLESHIP. 147 

M made thee whole." In this passage also, Acts iv. 12, the word is exactly the same 
as that used in verse 9, where the common translation gives "made whole." The 
close connection therefore between these two verses would seem to require the same 
meaning in the word thus used, and hence 1 should feel justified in preferring this 
rendering ; but the general power of the verb makes it very probable that in this sec- 
ond use of it here, there was a sort of intentional equivoque in the writer and speak- 
er, giving force to the expression, by the play on the meaning afforded by the present 
peculiar circumstances. 

THEIR RENEWED ZEAL. 

The apostles, as soon as they were released from this unjust 
confinement, went directly to their own companions, and reported 
all that the high priests and elders had said to them. And when 
the disciples heard of the threats which these tyrannical hierarchs 
had laid on their persecuted brethren, with one mind they raised 
a voice to God in a prayer of unequalled beauty and power, in 
which they called upon the Lord, as the God who had made 
heaven, and earth, and sea, and all in them, to look down upon 
them, thus endangered by their devotion to his cause, and to give 
them all boldness of speech in preaching his word ; and to vindi- 
cate their authority still further, by stretching out his hand to 
heal, and by signs and miracles. No sooner had they uttered 
their prayer than they received new assurance of the help of God, 
and had new evidence of a divine influence. " The place where 
they were assembled was shaken, and they were all filled again 
with the Holy Spirit, and spake the word of God with renewed 
boldness." This first attack upon them, by their persecutors, so far 
from dispiriting or disuniting them, gave them redoubled courage, 
and bound them together still with the ties of a common danger 
and a common helper. " All those who believed were of one 
heart and one soul," and were so perfectly devoted to each others' 
good, that " none of them said that any of the things which he 
possessed was his own, but held them as the common support of 
all." And in spite of the repeated denunciations of the Saddu- 
cees and the Sanhedrim, the apostles, with great power and effect, 
bore witness of the resurrection of their Lord ; and the result of 
their preaching was, that they were all in the highest favor with 
the people. Neither was any one of them suffered to want any 
comfort or convenience of life ; for many that owned houses and 
lands at a distance, turned them into ready money by selling them, 
and brought the money thus obtained, to the apostles, with whom 
they deposited it in trust, for distribution among the needy, ac- 
cording to their circumstances. This was done more particularly 
by the foreign Jews, many of whom were converted at the pente- 



14S Peter's afostleshij?, 

cost, when, being gathered from all parts, they heard for the first 
time of the Messiah, from the mouths of his apostles, and saw their 
words supported hy such wonders. Among these was a native of 
Cyprus, by name Joseph, a Levite, who so distinguished himself 
by his labors of love among them, and gave such promise of ex- 
cellence as a teacher of the new faith which he had adopted, that 
the apostles honored him with a new name, by which he was ever 
after known, instead of his previous one. They called him Bar- 
nabas, which means " the son of exhortation/' no doubt referring 
to those talents which he afterwards displayed as an eminent and 
successful minister of the gospel. 

Raised a voice. — This is literal ; and can mean nothing more than the common 
modern expression, " unite in prayer," with "which it is perfectly synonymous. The 
judicious Bloomtield (Anno f in Acts iv. 24,) observes, " We cannot rationally sup- 
pose that this prefatory address was (as some conjecture) not pronounced extempore, 
but apre-composed form of pra} r er, since the words advert to circumstances not known 
until that very time ; as, for instance, the threatenings of the Sanhedrim, (verse 29,) 
of which they had been but just then informed; and the words 'aKovoavres 'o/xoSvuaSov 
jipav cpuvtjv will not allow us to imagine any interval between the report of Peter and 
John, and the prayer." Kuinoel's view is precisely the same. 

Were in the higltcst favor with the people. — Very different from the common transla- 
tion, " great grace was upon them all." But the Greek word, Xapn, (Kharis,) like 
the Latin gratia, (in the Vulgate,) means primarily " favor;" and the only question 
is, whether it refers to the favor of God or of man. Beza, Whitby, Doddridge, 
&c. prefer the former, but Kuinoel justly argues from a comparison of the parallel 
passages, (ii. 47, and iv. 34,) that it refers to their increasing influence on "the atten- 
tion and regard of the people, which was indeed the great object of all their preaching 
and miracles. Grotius, Rosenmueller, Bloomfield and others, also support this view, 

Deposited in trust. — This is a free, but just version of tr.cow Ttupa tovs noSas, {etith- 
oun para tons podas,) Acts iv. 35, literally and faithfully rendered in the common 
translation by " laid at the feet ;" but this was an expression very common not only 
in Hebrew, but in Greek and Latin usage, for the idea of " deposit in trust ;" as is 
shown by Rosenmuellers apt quotations from Cicero, " ante pedes praetoris in foro 
expensum est ami pondo centum," pro Flac. c. 28 ; and from Heliodorus, -navra ra 
tavrov TiSevcu napa tovs iroSas /WiAaoj. But Kuinoel seems not to think of these, and 
quotes it as a mere Hebraism. 

Barnabas, son of exhortation. — This is the translation of this name, which seems 
best authorized. A fuller account of it will be given in the life of Barnabas. 

ANANIAS AND SAPPIIIRA. 

The great praise and universal gratitude which followed Bar- 
nabas, for this noble and self-denying act of pure generosity, was 
soon after the occasion of a most shameful piece of imposition, 
ending in an awful expression of divine vengeance. Led by the 
hope of cheaply winning the same praise and honor which Barna- 
bas had acquired by his simple-minded liberality, a man named 
Ananias, with the knowledge and aid of his wife Sapphira, hav- 
ing sold a piece of land, brought only a pari of the price to the 
apostles, and deposited it in the general charity-fund, alleging at 
the same time, that this was the whole amount obtained for the 
land. But Peter, having reason to believe that this was only a 



149 

part of the price, immediately questioned Ananias sternly on this 
point, charging him directly with the crime of lying to God. He 
remarked to him that the land was certainly his own, and no one 
could question his right to do just as he pleased with that, or the 
money obtained for it ; since he was under no obligation to give it 
away to the poor of the church. But since he had of his own 
accord attempted to get a reputation for generosity, by a base and 
avaricious act of falsehood, he had incurred the wrath of an in- 
sulted God. No sooner had Ananias heard this awful denuncia- 
tion, than, struck with the vengeance he had brought on himself, 
he fell lifeless before them, and was carried out to the burial by 
the attendants. His wife soon after coming in, not having heard 
of what had happened, boldly maintained her husband's assertion, 
and repeated the lie most distinctly to Peter. He then declared 
his knowledge of her guilt, and made known to her the fate of her 
husband, which she was doomed to share. The words had hard- 
ly left his lips, when they were confirmed by her instant death, 
and she was at once carried out and laid with her husband. The 
effect of these shocking events on the minds of the members of 
the church generally, was very salutary ; exhibiting to them the 
awful consequences of such deliberate and hardened sin. 

Attendants. — The common English translation here gives the expression, "young 
men," which is the primary meaning of the Greek veavioKoi, (neaniskoi^ and is quite 
unobjectionable ; but the connection here seems to justify and require its secondary 
use in application to "servants," " attendants," &c. This interpretation has the au- 
thority of the learned Mosheim, who considers the persons here mentioned, to have 
been regularly appointed officers, who performed the necessary duties about the as- 
semblies of the disciples, and executed all the commands of the apostles. He says, 
" unless you suppose these young men to have been of this sort, it is hard to understand 
why they alone instantly rose up and carried out the bodies of Ananias and his wife, 
and buried them. But if you suppose them to have been men discharging an official 
duty in the public assembly, you see a reason why, even without orders, they took 
that sad duty upon themselves. And that there were public servants of this sort in 
the first Christian church, no one certainly can doubt, who will imagine for himself 
either its circumstances or the form of the assemblies of that age. For instance, there 
were the places of meeting to be cleaned, — the seats and tables to be arranged, — the 
sacred books to be brought and carried away, — the dishes to be set out and cleared 
off, — in short, there w r ere many things to be done which absolutely required particu- 
lar men." (Mosheim de Reb. Christ, ant. cons. M. p. 114, b.) This passage is quoted 
by Kuinoel, and is so clear in its representation of the circumstance, as to justify 
me in translating it entire. 

THE INCREASING FAME OF THE APOSTLES. 

The apostles, daily supported anew by fresh tokens of divine 
aid, went on in their labors among the people, encouraged by their 
increasing attention and favor. So deep was the impression of 
awe made by the late occurrence, that none of the rest of the 
church dared to mingle familiarly with the apostles, who now 

20 



150 peter's apostleship. 

seemed to be indued with the power of calling down the ven- 
geance of God at will, and appeared to be persons too high and 
awful for common men to be familiar with. Yet the number of 
the church members, both men and women, continued to enlarge, 
and the attendance of the people to increase, so that there was no 
place which would accommodate the vast crowd of hearers and 
beholders, except the great porch of Solomon, already described, 
where the apostles daily met the church and the people, to teach 
and strengthen them, and to work the cures which their Master 
had so often wrought. So high was the reputation of the apos- 
tles, and so numerous were those who came to solicit the favor of 
their healing power, for themselves or friends, that all could not 
get access to them even in the vast court of the temple which they 
occupied, insomuch that they brought the sick into the streets, and 
laid them on beds and couches, along the path which the apostles 
were expected to pass, that at least the shadow of Peter, passing 
by, might overshadow some of them. Nor was this wonderful 
fame and admiration confined to Jerusalem ; for as the news was 
spread abroad by the pilgrims returning from the pentecost, there 
came also a multitude out of the cities round about Jerusalem, 
bringing sick folks and those who were affected by evil spirits, and 
they were healed, every one. 

Mingle familiarly with them. — Com. trans., "join himself to them," which conveys 
a totally erroneous idea, since all their efforts were given to this end, of making as 
many as possible " join themselves to them." The context (verse 14,) shows that their 
numbers were largely increased by such additions. ' ( Yet no one of the common 
members ('ot \onrei) dared mingle familiarly (noWaaSai) with them ; but the people 
held them in great reverence." Acts v. 13. 

Met the church and people. — This distinction may not seem very obvious in a com- 
mon reading of the Acts, but in v. 11, it is very clearly drawn. " Great fear was 
upon the whole church and on all the hearers of these things." And throughout the 
chapter, a nice discrimination is made between 'o Aaoj, (ho laos.) " the people," or 
" the congregation," and 'rj oc^aia, {he ekklesia,) "the church." See Kuinoel in v. 
13, 14. 

The- shadow of Peter. — This is one of a vast number of passages which show that 
high and perfectly commanding pre-eminence of this apostolic chief. The people 
evidently considered Peter as concentrating all the divine and miraculous power in 
his own'person, and had no idea at all of obtaining benefit from anything that the mi- 
nor apostles could do. In him, alone, they saw the manifestations of divine power 
and authority ; — he spoke and preached and healed, and judged and doomed, while 
the rest had "nothing to do but assent and aid. Peter, then, was the great pastor of the 
church, and it is every way desirable that over-zealous Protestants would find some 
better reason for opposing so palpable a fact, than simply that Papists support it. 

THEIR SECOND SEIZURE AND TRIAL. 

The triumphant progress of the new sect, however, was not un- 
noticed by those who had already taken so decided a stand against 
it. The Sadducees, who had so lately come out against them, 



151 

were not yet disposed to leave the apostles to enjoy their boldness 
with impunity. The high priest Annas, who had always been 
the determined enemy of Christ, belonging to the Sadducean sect, 
was easily led to employ all his authority with his brethren, against 
the apostles. He at last, provoked beyond endurance at their 
steady and unflinching contempt of the repeated solemn injunc- 
tion of the Sanhedrim, whose president and agent he was, rose 
up in all his anger and power, and, backed by his friends, seized 
the apostles and put them into the common jail, as inveterate dis- 
turbers of the peace of the city, and of the religious order of the 
temple. This commitment was intended to be merely temporary, 
and was to last only until a convenient time could be found for 
bringing them to trial, when the crowd of strangers should have 
retired from the city to their homes, and the excitement attendant 
on the preaching and miracles of the apostles should have sub- 
sided, so that the ordinary course of law might go on safely, even 
against these popular favorites, and they might be brought at last 
to the same fate as their Master. After the achievment of this 
project, " a consummation most devoutly to be wished" by every 
friend of the established order of things, the sect which was now ma- 
king such rapid advances would fall powerless and lifeless, when its 
great heads were thus quietly lopped off. This seems to have 
been their well-arranged plan, — but it was destined to be spoiled 
in a way unlooked for ; and this first step in it was to be made the 
means of a new triumph to the persecuted subjects of it. That 
very night, the prison doors were opened by a messenger of God, 
by whom the apostles were brought out of their confinement, and 
told, " Go, stand and speak in the temple, to the people, all the 
words of this life." According to this divine command, they went 
into the temple and taught, early in the morning, probably before 
their luxurious tyrants had left their lazy pillows. While the 
apostles were thus coolly following their daily labors of mer- 
cy in the temple, the high priest and his train- called the council 
together, and the whole senate of all the children of Israel, and 
having deliberately arrayed themselves in the forms of law, they 
ordered the imprisoned heretics to be brought forthwith into the 
awful presence of this grand council and senate of the Jewish na- 
tion and faith. The officers, of course, as in duty bound, went to 
execute the order, but soon returned to report the important de- 
ficiency of the persons most needed to complete the solemn pre- 
paration for the trial Their report was simply, " The prison truly 



152 PETER'S APOSTLESJSIP. 

we found shut with all safety, and the keepers standing without, 
before the doors ; but when we had opened, we found no man 
within." Here was a non-plus, indeed ; all proceedings were 
brought to a stand at once ; and " when the high priest and the 
chief officer of the temple, and the chief priests heard these things, 
they doubted of them, w hereunto they would grow." But these 
eminent dignitaries were not left long to perplex their sage heads 
about the unworthy objects of their tender solicitude ; for some 
faithful sycophant, rejoicing in such a glorious opportunity to 
serve the powers that were, came running to tell them, " Behold, 
the men whom ye put in prison are standing in the temple, and 
teaching the people." This very simple but valuable piece of in- 
formation relieved the grave judges very happily from their un- 
fortunate quandary ; and without further delay, a detachment of 
officers was sent to bring these unaccountable runaways to ac- 
count. But as it appeared that the criminals were now in the 
midst of a vast assemblage of their friends, who were too perfectly 
devoted to them to suffer them to receive any violence, it was 
agreed to manage the thing as quietly and easily as might be, and 
to coax them away if possible to the tribunal. To insure the still 
and effectual performance of this order, the captain of the temple 
himself went with the officers, and quietly drew the apostles away, 
with their own consent, and without any violence; for the minions 
of the law knew perfectly well that the least show of injury to- 
wards these righteous men, would insure to those who attempted 
it, broken head* and bones, from the justly provoked people, whose 
deserved indignation would soon make the very stones to rise in 
mutiny for the defence of their beloved teachers and benefactors. 
The apostles themselves, however, showed no unwillingness what- 
ever to appear before their bitter persecutors again, and presented 
themselves accordingly, with bold unflinching fronts, before the 
bar of the Sanhedrim. When they were fairly set before the 
council, the high priest, turning his lately perplexed face into " a 
look of austere dignity," asked them, " Did we not particularly 
charge you, that you should not teach in his name ? And now, 
indeed, in open contempt of our authority, you have filled all Je- 
rusalem with your doctrine, and mean to bring this man's blood 
upon us ?" They, the high priest and his supporters, had, at no 
small pains and trouble, effected the death of Jesus, and had nat- 
urally hoped that there would be an end of him ; but here now 
were his disciples constantly using his name to the excitable popu- 



153 

lace in their daily teachings, thus keeping alive the memory of 
these painful incidents which it was so desirable to forget, and 
slowly plotting the means of avenging upon the Sanhedrim the 
death of their" Master. To this sort of address, Peter and all the 
other apostles, who now shared the fate of their two distinguished 
friends, replied, even as had been said on the previous summons, 
" We ought to obey God rather than men. The God of our fa- 
thers raised up Jesus, whom you slew and hanged on a tree : him 
now has God uplifted to sit beside his own right hand, to be a 
Prince and a Savior, to give to Israel a change of heart and views, 
and remission of sins. And we are his witnesses of these things, 
and what is far more, so also is the Holy Spirit, which God has 
given to those who obey him, as the reward and the sign of their 
obedience." This bold and solemn speech, breathing nothing but 
resistance against all hindrances, and steady persistance in their 
course, — and denouncing, too, as murderers, the judges, while it ex- 
alted their victim to honors the highest in the universe, was not 
at all calculated to conciliate the friendly regard of the hearers of 
it, but roused them to the most violent and deadly hate. Deeply 
wounded and insulted as they were, they determined to try re- 
monstrance no longer ; but in spite of the danger of popular fer- 
ment, to silence these audacious bra vers of their authority, in 
death. While they were on the point of pronouncing this cruel 
decision, the proceedings were stayed by Gamaliel, a man of vast 
learning and influence, an eminent Pharisee of great popularity, 
and beyond all the men of that age, in knowledge of the law of 
Moses and of Hebrew literature. This great man, rising up in 
the midst of their wrathful resolutions, moved to suspend the 
decision for a few minutes, and to withdraw the prisoners from 
the bar, until the court could form their opinions by deliberating 
with more freedom than they could in the presence of the subjects 
of the trial. As soon as the apostles were put out of the court, 
Gamaliel addressed them, prompted by a noble humanity, as well 
as by a deep knowledge of human nature, and acting in accord- 
ance, also, with the general principles of the Pharisees, who were 
very averse to cruelty and bloodshed, and were generally disposed 
to punish even criminals in the mildest ways. Possibly, too, he 
might have been affected by some jealousy of the forwardness of 
the rival sect. His words were these : "Men of Israel ! take care 
what you do to these men. For you know that, not long ago, 
rose up Theudas, boasting himself to be somebody, and gathered 



154 peter's apostleshif, 

a gang about him, to the number of four hundred. But as soon 
as the attention of our Roman masters was drawn to his out- 
rageous doings, they put him entirely down at once, killing him 
and breaking up his band, by slaughter and banishment ; so that 
without any trouble or exertion on our part, all this sedition was 
brought to nought. And when, after him, Judas the Galilean 
raised a great party about him, in the days of the taxing, this re- 
bellion against the government met with the same inevitable fate, 
from the resistless soldiery of Rome ; and all this was done without 
any need of interference from us. And now, with these remark- 
able instances in view, I warn you to let these men alone, and 
leave them to determine their fate by their own future conduct. 
For if, in all their active efforts of seeming benevolence, they have 
been prompted by any base ambition to head a faction, which may 
raise them to the supreme power in religious and political affairs, 
and by a revengeful wish to punish those concerned in the death 
of their Master • — if, in short, their plan or their work is a mere 
contrivance of men, it will come to nought of itself, without your 
interference, as did the two miserable riots which I have just men- 
tioned But if, inspired by a holier principle of action, they are 
laboring with pure love of their converts ; if all these wonderful 
cures which you consider mere tricks and impostures, shall prove 
to be true miracles, wrought by the hand of God, and if their plan 
be of God, — you cannot overthrow it; and do you look to it, sirs, 
that you do not find yourselves at last fighting against God." This 
noble and sensible speech, aided by the high rank and great weight 
of character which belonged to the speaker, instantly hushed all 
the lately outrageous proposals which had been made against the 
prisoners. If there were any in the council who did not feel sat- 
isfied with his reasoning, they were wise enough to acquiesce, with 
at least the appearance of content. They knew too well, that Ga- 
maliel, supported by his unbounded popularity with the whole 
nation, and his eminently exalted character for justice and virtue, 
was abundantly able to put down every appearance of opposition, 
and set the apostles free, in spite of high priest and Sadducees. 
Adopting his resolution, therefore, they called in the apostles, and 
having vented their paltry malice by beating them, and having 
exposed themselves to new contempt by repeating their oft-despised 
command, that the apostles should not speak in the name of 
Jesus, they let them go, being fully assured that the first use the 
apostles would make of their freedom would be to break this idle 



Peter's apostles in p. 155 

injunction. For they went out of the judgment-hall, rejoicing 
that they were honored by suffering this shameful treatment in 
their Master's name. They now recalled to mind his early words 
of encouragement, which he had given them in a wise determin- 
ation to prepare them for evils of which they had then so little 
notion. The passage from the sermon on the mount was partic- 
ularly appropriate to their present circumstances. " Blessed are 
they who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the 
kingdom of heaven. Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, 
and persecute you, and say all manner of evil against you falsely, 
for my name's sake. Rejoice and be exceeding glad; for great is 
your reward in heaven ; for so persecuted they the prophets who 
were before you." Comforted by such words as these, they re- 
turned to their labors as before, and daily, in the temple, and 
moreover in private houses, ceased not to teach and to preach Je- 
sus Christ, in the very face of the express prohibition of their 
thwarted persecutors. 

Messenger. — This is a fair and literal interpretation of ayytXos, (angelos,) and one jus- 
tifiable in every place where it occurs in the Bible. Wherever it is applied to a su- 
pernatural being sent from God, the connection will abundantly explain the term, 
without rendering it by a different word. Thus I have chosen to do, and to leave 
each reader to judge for himself, from the other attendant circumstances, of the char- 
acter of the messenger. See Kuinoel in loc. 

All the words of this life. — I here follow the common translation, though Kuinoel 
and most interpreters consider this as a hypallage, and transpose it into " all these 
words of life." But it does not seem necessary to take such a liberty with the expres- 
sion, since the common version conveys a clear idea. " The words of this life" ev- 
idently can mean only the words of that life which they had before preached, in ac- 
cordance with their commission; that is, of life from the dead, as manifested in the 
resurrection of Jesus, which was in itself the pledge and promise of life and bliss 
eternal, to all who should hear and believe these " words." This view is supported 
by Storr, and a similar one is advanced by Rosenmueller, in preference to any 
hypallage. 

Change of heart. — I have in general given this translation of Meravoeire, {Metan- 
oeite,) as more minutely faithful to the etymology of the word, and also accordant with 
popular religious forms of expression ; though the common translation is unobjec- 
tionable. 

Deeply wounded. — In the Greek, tiie-rrpiovro, (dieprionto,) from SianpiM, " to saw 
through-," in the passive, of course, " to be sawn through," or figuratively, " deeply 
wounded in the moral feelings." This is the com. trans., " cut to the heart," which 
I have adopted, with such a variation of the words as will assimilate it most nearly 
to common modern forms of expression. But Kuinoel prefers the peculiar force of 
the middle voice, (where this word can be made, owing to the identity of the imp. 
tenses of the two voices,) given by Hesychius, "to gnash the teeth," doubtless taken 
from the similarity of sound between " sawing," and "grating the teeth." This sense 
being also highly appropriate here, to men in a rage, makes the passage perfectly am- 
biguous, and accordingly great authorities divide on the point. In such cases, it 
seems to me perfectly fair to consider the phrase as originally intended for an equi- 
voque. Luke was Grecian enough, doubtless, to know the two meanings of this form, 
and must have been very careless if he did not think of it as he wrote it down ; but 
either meaning is powerfully expressive of the idea here, and why should he reject or 
explain it 1 It is rather an advantage and a charm than otherwise, in a language, to 
possess this ambiguity, making occasionally a richly expressive play of meanings. 



156 Peter's apostleship. 

It seems, however, more in accordance with Luke's ordinary expressions, to prefer 
the passive sense, as in Acts vii. 54, rats KapSian (" to their hearts") is added, there, of 
course, requiring the passive. For similar forms of expression, see Luke ii. 35 : Acts 
ii. 37. — Consult Bretschneider in loc. In favor of the passive sense, see Bloomiield, 
Rosenmueller, Wolf, Hammond and Gataker. On the middle sense, Kuinoel, Beza 
and Wetstein. 

Gamaliel. — I shall give a full account of this venerable sage, in the beginning of 
the life of Paul. 

In the temple and in private houses. — Acts vi. 42. In the Greek, /car ohov, (kaV oikon,) 
the same expression as in ii. 46, alluded to in my note on pages 139, 140. Here too 
occurs precisely the same connection with '«v ry hpy, (en to hicro,) with the same sense 
of opposition in place, there alluded to. The indefinite sense, then, rather than the 
distributive, is proper here as there, showing that they preached and taught not only 
in their great place of assembly, under the eastern colonnade of the temple, (v. 12,) 
but also in private houses, that is, at their home, or those of their friends. The ex- 
pression " from house to house," however, is much less objectionable here, because in 
this passage it can give only an indefinite idea of place, without any particular idea of 
rotation ; but in the other passage, in connection with " the taking of food," it makes 
an erroneous impression of their mode of life, which the text is meant to describe. 

THE APPOINTMENT OF DEACONS. 

The successful progress of their labors had now gathered around 
them a great church, numbering among its members a vast throng 
both of Hebrew and of foreign Jews. The apostles being devo- 
ted wholly to their high duties of prayer and preaching, were un- 
able to superintend particularly the daily distribution of the means 
of support to the needy, out of the charity-fund which had been 
gathered from the generous contributions of the wealthy members 
of the church. Among the foreign Jews who had joined the 
fraternity of the disciples, were many of those who, by education, 
language and manners, though not by race or religion, were 
Greeks. These, with the proselytes, being fewer than those who 
adhered to the genuine manners and language of Palestine, had 
comparatively little weight in the administration of the affairs of 
the church, and had no hand in the distribution to the church 
poor. Being a minority, and being moreover looked on with in- 
vidious eyes by the genuine Hebrews, as a sort of half renegades, 
they were overlooked and put back, in the daily ministration to 
the needy, and to such a degree, that even the helpless widows 
among them were absolutely suffering through this neglect. The 
natural consequence was, that murmurs and open complaints arose 
among them, at this shameful and unbrotherly partiality. As soon 
as the report of the difficulty reached the ears of the twelve, they 
immediately called a full church-meeting, and laid the matter be- 
fore it in these words. " It is not proper that we should leave 
the preaching of the ward of God, to wait on tables. Wherefore, 
brethren, look ye out among you seven reputable men, full of a 
holy spirit and of wisdom, whom we may intrust with this bu- 



peter's apostleship. 157 

siness ; while we continue to give our time up wholly to prayer 
and the ministry of the word." This wise plan pleased all parties, 
and the church proceeded to elect the proper persons for the charge. 
To soothe the feelings of the Hellenists, the whole seven were 
chosen from their number, as the names (which are all Greek) 
fully show. This makes it probable that there were already 
persons appointed from among -the Hebrews, who had admin- 
istered these charities from the beginning, and whose partial man- 
agement of these matters had given offense to those whom they 
slighted. The seven Hellenists now chosen to this office, were 
Stephen, resplendent in spiritual and intellectual endowments ; 
Philip, also highly distinguished afterwards by his successful 
preaching ; Prochorus, Nicanor, Timon, Parmenas, and Nicolas, a 
proselyte of Antioch ; by which last circumstance, (as well as by 
the case of Barnabas,) is shown the fact that some Hellenist con- 
verts, from a distance, had settled at Jerusalem, and permanently 
joined the followers of Christ. These seven being formally elect- 
ed by the church, were brought in before the apostles, for appro- 
val and confirmation. And after they had prayed, they laid their 
hands on them, in token of imparting to them the blessing and 
the power of that divine influence which had inspired its previous 
possessors to deeds so energetic and triumphant. The efficiency 
of this prayer and benediction, in calling down divine grace on 
the heads thus touched by the hands of the apostles, was after- 
wards most remarkably demonstrated in the case of two of the 
seven, and in the case of the first of them, almost immediately. 

Greeks. — The original word here is not 'EWrjves, (Hellenes,) bat 'KWrjviaroi, (Hellen- 
istoi,) which means not Grecians, but Grecizers ; that is, those who imitated Grecian 
language or customs. 

Genuine Hebrews. — By these are meant those who used the Hebrew language still in 
their synagogues, as the only sacred tongue, and looked with much scorn on the Hel- 
lenists, that is, those foreign Jews, who, from birth or residence in other lands, had 
learned the Greek as their sole language in common life, and were thus obliged to use 
the Greek translation, in order to understand the scriptures. This matter will have 
a fuller discussion in another place. Lightfoot has brought a most amazing quantity 
of learned and valuable illustration of this difference, from Talmudic literature. 
(Hor. Heb. et Talm. in Act. vi. 1.) 

Christ's first martyr. 
Stephen, after thus being set apart for the service of the church, 
though faithfully discharging the peculiar duties to which he was 
called, did not confine his labors to the mere administration of the 
public charities. The word of God had now so spread, under 
the ministry of the apostles, that the number of the disciples in 
Jerusalem was greatly enlarged, and that not merely from the 

21 



158 



PETERS APOS'TLESHIP 



lower a&d ignorant orders ; but a great number of the priests, 
who, in their daily service in the temple, had been frequently un- 
intentional hearers of the word preached in its courts, now pro- 
fessed themselves the submissive friends of the new faith. This 
remarkable increase excited public attention more and more, and 
required redoubled exertions to meet the increasing call for in- 
struction. Stephen, therefore, immediately entered boldly and 
heartily on this good work ; and, inspired by a pure faith, and 
the confidence of help from above, he wrought among the people 
such miracles as had hitherto followed only the ministry of the 
apostles. The bold actions of this new champion did not fail to 
excite the wrath of the enemies of the cause of Christ ; but as 
the late decision of the Sanhedrim had been against any further 
immediate resort to violent measures, his opponents confined them- 
selves to the forms of verbal debate for a while. As Stephen was 
one of those Jews who had adopted the Greek language and 
habits, and probably directed his labors more particularly to that 
class of persons, he soon became peculiarly obnoxious to those 
Hellenist Jews who still held out against the new doctrine. Of 
the numerous congregations of foreign Jews that filled Jerusalem, 
five in particular are mentioned as distinguishing themselves by 
this opposition, — that of the freed-men, or captive Jews once slaves 
in Rome, and their descendants, — that of the Cyrenians, — of the 
Alexandrians, — the Cilicians and the Asians. Some of the more 
zealous in all these congregations came out to meet Stephen in 
debate, with the polished points of Grecian logic which their ac- 
quaintance with that language enabled them to use against him. 
But not all the combined powers of sacred and profane literature 
availed any thing against their learned and inspired opponent. 
Prepared beforehand, thoroughly, in all sorts of wisdom, and 
borne on resistlessly, moreover, by that divine influence whose 
movements they could see but could not understand, he foiled 
them completely at all their own weapons, and exposed them, in 
their low bigotry and stupidit}^ baffled and silenced by his single 
voice. But among all the refinements and elegances with which 
their classical knowledge had made them acquainted, they had 
failed to learn that noblest effort of the rhetorical art, which is to 
know how to bear a fair defeat in open debate, gracefully. These 
low-minded, half-renegade bigots, burning with brutal rage for 
this defeat, which their base behavior made more disgraceful, deter- 
mined to find a means of punishing him, which no logic nor rhe- 



p.eter's apostleship. 159 

tone could resist. They found men base enough for their vile 
purposes, and instructed them to testify that they had heard him 
speak blasphemous words against Moses and against God. On 
the strength of this heinous charge, they made out to rouse some 
of the people, as well as the elders and the scribes, to a similar 
hostile feeling ; and coming upon him with a throng of these, 
they seized him and dragged him away to the Sanhedrim, to un 
dergo the form of a trial. They then brought forward their per- 
jured witnesses, who testified only in vague terms of abuse, " This 
man ceases not to speak blasphemous words against this holy 
place and the law. For we have heard him say that this Jesus, 
the Nazarene, will destroy this place, and will do away with the 
customs which Moses delivered to us." This was, after all, a 
kind of accusation which brought him more particularly under 
the invidious notice of the Pharisees, whose leader had lately so 
decidedly befriended the apostles ; for that sect guarded with the 
most jealous care all the minute details of their religion, and 
were ever ready to punish, as a traitor to the national faith and 
honor, any one who spoke slightingly, or even doubtingly, of 
the perpetuity of the law of Moses, and its hallowed shrine. Per- 
haps there was no one of all the sayings of Jesus himself, which 
had given deeper offense than his remark about destroying the 
temple and re-building it in three days, which his silly hearers 
took up seriously, and construed into a serious, blasphemous in- 
sult of the chief glory of tue Jewish name, and bore it in mind 
so bitterly, as to throw it back on him, in his last agonies on the 
cross. Such a saying, therefore, when laid to the charge of Ste- 
phen, could not but rouse the worst feelings against him, in the 
hearts of all his judges. But he, calm and undisturbed amid the 
terrors of this trial, as he had been in the fury of the dispute, 
bore such an aspect of composure, that all who sat in the council 
were struck with his angelic look. The high priest, however, 
having heard the accusation, solemnly called on the prisoner to 
say " whether these things were so." Stephen then, with a deter- 
mination to meet the charge by a complete exhibition of his views 
of the character and objects of the Jewish faith, ran over the ge- 
neral history of its rise and progress, and of the opinions which 
its founders and upholders had expressed concerning the impor 
tance and the perpetuity of those types and forms, and of the 
glorious temple which was their chief seat, when compared with 
the revelation to be expected through the prophet promised to 



160 peter's apostleship. 

them by God and foretold by Moses. Warming as he went on, 
he quoted the poetical words of Isaiah, on the dwelling-place of 
the Almighty, as not being confined to the narrow bounds of the 
building which was to them an object of such idolatrous reve- 
rence, as the sole place of Jehovah's abode, but as being high in 
the heavens, whence his power and love spread their boundless 
grasp over sea and land, and all nations that dwelt beneath his 
throne. As the words of the prophet of the fire-touched lips 
rolled from the voice of Stephen, they kindled his soul into an 
ecstacy of holy wrath ; and in open scorn of their mean cruelty, 
he broke away from the plan of his discourse, bursting out into 
burning expressions of reproach and denunciation, which carried 
their rage away beyond all bounds of reason. Conscious of their 
physical power to avenge the insult, the mob instantly rose up, 
and hurried him away from the court, without regard to the forms 
of law ; and taking him without the city, they stoned him to 
death, while he invoked on them, not the wrath, but the mercy of 
tfreir common God. In such prayers, gloriously crowning such 
labors and sufferings, he fell asleep, commending his spirit to the 
hands of that Lord and Savior, whom it was his exalted honor to 
follow, first of all, through the bitter agonies of a bloody death. 

THE PERSECUTION. 

Among the nameless herd of Stephen's murderers and dispu- 
tants, there was one only whose name has been preserved from the 
impenetrable oblivion which hides their infamy. And that name 
now is brought to the mind of every Christian reader, without one 
emotion of indignation or contempt, for its connection with this 
bloody murder. That man is now known to hundreds of mill- 
ions, and has been for centuries known to millions of millions, as 
the bright leader of the hosts of the ransomed, and the faithful 
martyr who sealed with his blood the witness which this proto- 
martyr bore beneath the messengers of death to which his voice 
had doomed him. In the synagogue of the Cilicians, which 
was so active in the attack on Stephen, was a young man, 
who was not behind the oldest and the fiercest, in the steady, un- 
relenting hate which he bore to this devouring heresy. He gave 
his voice amid the clamors of the mob, to swell the cry for the 
death of the heretic ; and when the stout murderers hurled the 
deadly missiles on the martyr's naked head, it was he who took 
charge of the loose garments which they had thrown off, that 
they might use their limbs with greater freedom. Neither the 






peter's apostleship. 161. 

sight of the saintly martyr, kneeling unresistingly to meet his 
bloody death, nor the sound of his voice, rising in the broken 
tones of the death-agony, in prayer for his murderers, could move 
the deep hate of this young zealot, to the least relenting ; but the 
whole scene only led him to follow this example of merciless 
persecution, which he here viewed with such deep delight. Abun- 
dant opportunities for the exercise of this persecuting spirit soon 
occurred. In connection with the charge against Stephen, which, 
however unfounded, brought him to this illegal death, there was 
a general and systematic disturbance raised by the same persons, 
against the church in Jerusalem, more particularly directed, as it 
would seem, against the Hellenist members, who were involved, 
by general suspicion, in the same crime for which Stephen, their 
eminent brother, had suffered. Saul now distinguished himself 
at once above all others, by the active share which he took in this 
persecution. Raging against the faithful companions of the mar- 
tyred Stephen, he, with the most inquisitorial zeal, sought them 
out, even in their own quiet dwellings, and violating the sanctity 
of home, he dragged out the inmates to prison, visiting even on 
helpless women the crime of believing* as their consciences prompt- 
ed, and without regard to delicacy or decency, shutting them up 
in the public dungeons. As soon as the storm began to burst on 
the new converts, those who were in any special danger of attack 
very properly sought safety in flight from the city, in accordance 
with the wise and merciful injunction laid upon the apostles by 
their Lord, when he first sent them forth as sheep in the midst of 
wolves, — " When they persecute you in one city, flee into anoth- 
er." The consequences of this dispersion, however, were such 
as to turn the foolish rage of the persecutors to the solid advan- 
tage of the cause of Christ, and to show in what a variety of 
ways God can cause the wrath of man to praise him. For all 
those who were thus driven out of their peaceful homes, became 
missionaries of the word of truth, among the people of the va- 
rious cities and countries through which they were scattered. All 
those of whose wanderings we have any account, seem to have 
journeyed northward and north-westward, probably all of them 
foreign Jews, who naturally returned home when driven out of 
Jerusalem. Some of these went, in this way, to the Phoenician 
coast, to Antioch, and to Cyprus, all laboring to extend the know- 
ledge of that truth for which they were willing sufferers. But of 
all those who went forth on this forced mission, none appear to 



102 PETER'S APOSTLESHIP. 

have been more successful than Philip, who stood next to the 
martyred Stephen on the list of the seven Hellenist servants of 
the church, and who appears to have been second not even to his 
great fellow-servant in ability and energy, His home was m 
Caesarea, on the sea-coast ; but he had higher objects than merely 
to take refuge in his own domestic circle ; for instead of thus in- 
dulging his feelings of natural affection, he also turned his course 
northward, and made his first sojourn in the city of Samaria, 
where he immediately began to preach -Christ to them, as the 
common Messiah, so long desired by Samaritans as well as Jews. 
Here, the people being ruled by no tyrannical sectaries, like the 
Pharisees and Sadducees, and the various orders of ecclesiasti- 
cal power in Jerusalem, were left entirely to follow the impulse of 
their better feelings towards the truth, without the fear of any in- 
quisition into their movements. Under these happy circumstances 
of religious freedom, they all with one accord gave heed to the 
preaching of Philip, hearing and seeing the wonderful works of 
kindness which he did. For foul spirits, which, possessing many 
sufferers, had lona: wasted their bodies and deranged their minds, 
now at the word of this preacher of Christ, came out of many of 
them, crying with a loud voice in attestation of the irresistible 
power which had overcome them. Many also that were affected 
with palsies and that were lame, were healed in the same mirac- 
ulous manner ; so that, in consequence of this removal of so 
many bodily and spiritual evils, there was great joy in the city, 
at the arrival of this messenger of mercy. But before the coming 
of Philip, the people of Samaria had been the subjects of arts of 
a somewhat different kind, from a man who could claim for his 
works none of the holy character of disinterested humanity, which 
belonged to those of the preacher of Christ. This was one Simon, 
a man who, by the use of some magical tricks, had so imposed 
upon the simple-minded citizens, that they were profoundly im- 
pressed with the notion, Avhich he was anxious to make them be- 
lieve, namely, that he was a great man. To him they all, both 
young and old, paid the deepest reverence, in consequence of the 
triumphant ability displayed by him in the arts of sorcery ; and 
so low were their notions of the nature of miraculous agency, 
that they concluded that the tricks which he played were tokens 
of divine interposition in his favor, and universally allowed that 
he was himself a personification of the mighty power of God. 
But when Philip came among them, and exhibited the genuine 



peter's apostleship. 163 

workings of the holy spirit of God, they immediately saw how 
much they had been mistaken in their previous estimate of its 
operations, and changed their degraded notions, for a more just 
appreciation of its character. On hearing the word of truth so 
fully revealed and supported, they believed in the new view which 
he gave them of the kingdom of God on earth, and in the name 
of Jesus Christ ; and were baptized, both men and women. Even 
Simon himself, overwhelmed with the evidences of a higher power 
than any that he knew, confessed the fallacy of his own tricks, 
and submissively owned the power of God as manifested in the 
words and deeds of Philip, with whom he now remained, a hum- 
ble and wondering observer of the miracles and signs wrought 
by him. 

THE VISIT TO SAMARIA. 

Ill the mean time, the apostles had remained at Jerusalem, ap- 
parently not directly affected by the persecution against Stephen 
and his friends, or at least not disturbed by it so as to be prevent- 
ed from remaining at their original post, in the discharge of duty. 
For, a true regard for the instructions long ago given them by 
their Master, would have required them to leave Jerusalem, if the 
opposition to their preaching became so settled and extensive as 
to prevent them from advancing the cause of Christ there, more 
rapidly than they might in other places. The spirit with which 
they had been taught to meet tyrannical opposition, was not one 
of idle bravado or useless pertinacity, but of deliberate and cal- 
culating steadiness in their plan, which knew when to prudently 
give way, as well as when to boldly withstand. It is therefore 
fair to conclude, that the persecution here referred to, was so lim- 
ited as not to be directed against the apostles themselves, nor to 
hinder their useful labors. If any of them had been imprisoned 
during this persecution, certainly the rest would have been bla- 
mable for not escaping^ but the fact that they remained perfectly 
free, appears from their leaving the city without delay, on the 
occasion which now required their presence and assistance 
elsewhere. For as soon as they heard of the preaching of 
Philip at Samaria, and of the willingness with which the Samari- 
tans had received and believed the first communications of the 
word, they immediately sent to them Peter and John, who, as the 
chief teachers of the doctrines of Christ, might pive the new 
converts a fuller preparation for their duties in their calling, 
than could be expected from one so lately commissioned as the 



164 peter's apostleship. 

zealous preacher who had first awakened them. These two great 
apostles, having come down to Samaria, prayed for the believers 
there that they might receive the Holy Spirit ; for this heavenly 
gift had not yet been imparted to them ; the only sign of their 
acceptance into the new faith having been their baptism by the 
hands of Philip, who does not seem to have been empowered to 
indue others with the same divine spirit which he had so abund- 
antly received on himself. But the apostles laying their hands on 
them, as they had before done with such powerful effect on Ste- 
phen, Philip and their fellow-servants, now also inspired these 
second fruits with the same divine energy, which was instantly 
made manifest in them, by the usual signs. As soon as Simon 
saw the display of the new powers, with which those were sud- 
denly gifted who had been made the subjects of this simple cere- 
mony, he immediately concluded that he had at last found out 
the means of acquiring those miraculous powers at which he had 
been so deeply amazed, and which he thought he could make 
vastly profitable to himself in his business, as a very decided im- 
provement upon his old tricks. Thinking only of the motive 
which always moved his mind to the bestowment of such favors, 
he immediately took out the money he had gained by his imposi- 
tions on the people, and oifered the apostles a handsome share of 
it, if they would simply give him the valuable privilege of con- 
ferring this divine agency on all upon whom he should lay his 
hands, in the same manner as they. But his mercenary hopes 
were soon blasted by the indignant terms in which Peter rejected 
his insulting proposal. a Thy money perish with thee, because 
thou hast thought that the gift of God could be bought with 
money. Thou hast neither part nor lot in this matter ; for thy 
heart is not right in the sight of God. Change thy mind, there- 
fore, from this wickedness of thine, and ask God, if indeed there 
is any possibility, that the iniquity of thy heart may be forgiven 
thee ; for I see that thou art still full of the bitterness of thy for- 
mer poisons, and bound fast in the chains of thy old iniquities." 
Simon, hushed and overawed in his impertinent offers by this 
stern rebuke, sunk into a penitent tone again, and begged of them 
that they would pray for him, that the doom to perish with his 
money, as declared by Peter, might not fall on him. Of the depth 
and sincerity of his penitence, no good testimony is left us ; but 
his submissive conduct, at best, seems to have been rather the re- 
sult of a personal awe of the apostles, as his superiors in super- 



peter's apostleship. 165 

natural powers, than prompted by any true regard for their pure 
faith, or any just appreciation of their character and motives. 
The apostles, however, waited no longer to enlighten the mind of 
one so dark in his views of the divine agency ; but after they had 
borne witness to the truth of Philip's words and doctrines by their 
own preaching, they returned to Jerusalem, proclaiming the gos- 
pel in many villages of the Samaritans, on the way. Philip also, 
having had his labors thus triumphantly crowned by the minis- 
trations of the apostles, left Samaria, and turned his course south- 
wards, towards Gaza, under the impulse and guidance of a divine 
spirit. On this journey, occurred his most interesting adventure 
with the lord high treasurer of the Ethiopian queen, after which 
Philip was found at Ashdod, on the sea, from which place, jour- 
neying northwards again, he went preaching through all the 
towns on the coast, till he arrived at his home, at Caesarea. 

THE BEGINNING OP PEACE. 

Soon after the return of the apostles to Jerusalem, an event 
occurred, which had a more mighty influence on the progress of 
the Christian religion than any other that had occurred since the 
ascension of Jesus. The members of the church who still with- 
stood the storm of persecution in the city, were struck with no 
small amazement by the sudden appearance, before them, of Saul 
of Tarsus, the most bloody persecutor of their. Hellenist brethren, 
who, having exhausted the opportunities for the gratification of 
his spite against them in Jerusalem, had gone to Damascus, to 
seize such as there supposed themselves safe in following the new 
faith. This man, yet stained, as it were, with the blood of Ste- 
phen, now presented himself to them as a convert to the gospel, 
prepared to join them as a brother. The whole affair seemed to 
bear so decidedly the aspect of a palpable imposition, that they 
altogether refused to have any thing to do with him, and suspect- 
ed the whole to be a deep-laid snare, on the part of this bloody 
foe of the gospel, who now appeared to be seeking, by false pro- 
fessions, to get into their confidence, that he might have the means 
of betraying them to utter ruin. But Barnabas, who was better 
acquainted with Saul, detailed to the church all the wonderful 
circumstances so fully, that they no longer hesitated to receive 
him as a brother and fellow-laborer. This remarkable conver- 
sion was of vast benefit to the cause of the gospel, not only by 
bringing to its aid the services of a laborer so competent, but also 
by removing from among its adversaries one who had been a leader 

22 



166 peter's apostleshif. 

and a contriver of every plot of mischief. As soon as he left the 
ranks of the foe, the vindictive persecution, which had raged ever 
since the death of Stephen, ceased, as though it had lost its great 
author and main support, by the defection of Saul of Tarsus, 
Indeed, the last act of this persecution, which is recorded, was 
directed against this very man, who had once been a leader in it, 
and drove him out of the city which had been the scene of his 
cruelties. Therefore, the churches had rest throughout all Ju- 
dea, and Galilee, and Samaria, strengthening and advancing in 
piety, and filled with the impulses of the Holy Spirit. This op- 
portunity of quiet seemed peculiarly favorable for a minute survey 
of the condition of these scattered churches, most of which had 
grown up without any direct agency of the apostles, and there- 
fore needed their attention at this critical period. 

THE SURVEY OF THE CHURCHES. 

The most proper person for this responsible charge, was the 
great leader of the apostolic band ; and Peter, therefore, taking 
the task readily upon himself, went through all the churches, to 
give them the advantages of the minute personal ministry of a 
chief apostle, who might organize them, and instruct the disci- 
ples in their peculiar duties as members of a new religious com- 
munity. On this tour of duty, passing down from the interior 
towards the sea-coast, he came to Lydda, about forty or fifty miles 
from Jerusalem, and about twelve from the sea. Here there 
was a company of the faithful, whom he visited, to instruct them 
anew, and to enlarge their numbers, by his preaching and mira- 
cles. A particular case is recorded as having occurred here, 
which displayed both the compassion of Peter and kis divine 
power to heal and strengthen. Among the friends of Christ 
whom he visited here, was an invalid, whose name, Aeneas, 
shows him to have been a Hellenist. This man had for the long- 
period of eight years been deprived of the use of his limbs, by a 
palsy, which, during that tedious interval, confined him to his 
bed. Peter, on seeing him, said, " Aeneas, Jesus Christ heals 
thee. Arise, and make thy bed for thyself." The command to 
spread and smooth the couch, which he now quitted in health, 
was given, that he might show and feel, at once, how fully 
strength was restored to his hands as well as his feet. This mir- 
acle soon became known, not only to the citizens of Lydda, but 
also to the people inhabiting the extensive aud fertile plain of Sha- 
ron, which stretched to the northward of Lydda. along the coast. 



PETER'S APOSTLESHIP. 167 

from Joppa to Caesarea, bounded on the west by the highlands 
of Samaria. The effect of this display of power and benevo- 
lence, was such, on their minds, that, without exception, they pro- 
fessed their faith in Christ. 

Lydda. — This was a place of far more importance and fame, than would be sup- 
posed from the brief mention of its name in the apostolic narrative. It is often men- 
tioned in the writings of the Rabbins, under the name of iiS (iAidh,) its original He- 
brew name, and was long the seat of a great college of Jewish law and theology, 
which at this very period of Peter's visit was in its most nourishing state. This ap- 
pears from the fact that Rabbi Akiba, who raised the school to its greatest eminence, 
was contemporary with the great Rabban Gamaliel, who bears an important part in 
the events of the apostolic history. (The data of this chronological inference I find 
in Lightfoot.) It is easy to see, then, why so important a seat of Jewish theology 
should have been thought deserving of the particular notice and protracted stay of 
Peter, who labored with remarkable earnestness and effect here, inspired by the con- 
sciousness of the lasting and extensive good, that would result from an impression 
made on this fountain of religious knowledge. The members of the college, how- 
ever, did not all, probably, profess themselves followers of Christ. 

It is also described as possessing some importance in addition to its literary privi- 
leges, Josephus (Ant. XX. vi. 3.) mentions " Lydda" as " a village not inferior to a 
city in greatness." Its importance was, no doubt, in a great measure derived from 
the remarkably rich agricultural district which surrounded it. This was the plain of 
Sharon, so celebrated in the Hebrew scriptures for its fruitful fields and rich pas- 
tures, — its roses and its flocks. (Sol. Song. ii. 1: Isa. xxxiii. 9: xxxv. 2: lxv. 10 : 
1 Chron. xxvii. 29.) " All this country is described by Pococke as very rich soil, 
throwing up a great quantity of herbage ; among which he specifies chardons, rue, 
fennel, and Ihe striped thistle, 'probably on this account called the holy thistle.' A 
great variety of anemonies, he was told, grow in the neighborhood. ' I saw like- 
wise,' he adds, ' many tulips growing wild in the fields (in March ;) and any one 
who considers how beautiful those flowers are to the eye, would be apt to conjecture 
that these are the lilies to which Solomon, in all his glory, was not to be compared,'" 
— [Mod. Trav. p. 57.] Its distance from Jerusalem is ascertained, by Lightfoot, to 
be one day's journey, as it is stated with some circumlocution in the Mishna. It was 
destroyed, as Josephus relates, by Cestius Gallus, the Roman general, who marched 
his army through that region, in the beginning of the war, which ended in the de- 
struction of Jerusalem. Under the peaceful times of the later Roman sway in Pales- 
tine, it was rebuilt, and called Diospolis. But like many other such instances, it has 
lost its temporary heathen name, and is now called by its old scripture appellation, 
Laulcl. Travelers describe it as now a poor village, though the stones to be seen in 
the modern buildings show that it has been a place of great consequence. 

The New Testament name Lydda, (Av&ta,) by which Josephus also mentions it, is 
only so muck changed from the Hebrew Ludh, as was necessary to accommodate it 
to the regular forms and inflexions of the Greek language. Lightfoot well refutes 
the blunder of many modern geographers who make the two names refer to different 
places. This learned author is remarkably full in the description of this place, and 
is very rich in references to the numerous allusions which are made to it in the Tal- 
mudic writings. See his Centuria Chorographica, (Cap. 16.) prefixed to Hor. Heb. 
et Talm. in Matt. . uv 

Aeneas. — This name is unquestionably Greek, which seems to show the man to 
have been a Hellenist ; and that he was already a believer in Christ, would appear 
from the fact of Peter's finding him among the brethren there. 

THE VISIT TO JOPPA. 

Hardly had this instance of divine favor occurred in Lydda, 
when a new occasion for a similar effort presented itself, in the 
neighboring seaport town of Joppa. A female disciple of the faith 
of Christ, in that city, by name Tabitha, or in the Greek, Dorcas, 



168 

(both names meaning Gazelle,) had distinguished herself and hon- 
ored her religious profession, by the generous and charitable deeds 
which constantly employed her hands. This lady, so respected 
by all, and so loved by the poor, who gave witness to her good- 
ness, — such an honor to the religious community which she had 
joined,— seemed to have so nobly done her part in life, that the 
order of Providence had apparently called her to rest from these 
labors, in that sleep from which no piety nor usefulness can save 
or recall their possessor. After a few days of illness, she died, 
and was, after the usual funeral ablutions, laid in an upper cham- 
ber, to await the burial. In the midst of the universal grief for 
this sad loss, the members of the church at Joppa, knowing that 
Peter was in Lydda, within a few hours' journey, sent two mes- 
sengers to him, to beg his presence among them, as some conso- 
lation in their distress. Peter, on hearing of this occasion for his 
presence, with great readiness accompanied the messengers back, 
and on arriving at Joppa, went straight to the house of mourning. 
He was immediately led into the chamber, where he found a most 
affecting testimony to the nature of the loss which the afflicted 
community had suffered. Around the dead, stood the widows 
who, in their friendlessness, had been relieved by the sympathy 
of Dorcas, now pouring their tears and uttering their lamenta- 
tions over her, and showing that even the garments which they 
wore were the work of her industrious hand, — that hand which, 
once so untiring in these labors of love, was now cold and mo- 
tionless in death. From that resistless doom, what mortal voice 
could ever recall even one so amiable and useful ? But, while 
they were sorrowing thus, Peter ordered them all to leave him 
alone with the dead ; and when all witnesses were removed, he 
kneeled and prayed. The words of that prayer are not recorded ; 
and it is only by its successful efficiency that we know it to have 
been that fervent effectual prayer of a righteous man, which avail- 
eth much. It was such a prayer as, of old, the son of Shaphat 
offered over the dead child of the Shunamite, when alone with 
him ; and its effect was not less mighty. Rising at length, and 
turning towards the body, he said " Tabitha, arise !" Awaking 
from the unbreathing sleep of death, as from a light slumber of an 
hour, she opened her eyes, and when she saw the majestic man 
of God alone, and herself robed for the tomb, she sat up and 
gazed in amazement. Peter, then, giving her his hand, lifted her 
from the funeral couch, and calling in the brethren and the wid- 



peter's apostleship. 1.69 

ows, he presented her to their astonished eyes, alive. Their over- 
whelming- joy and wonder, we are left to imagine. The story, 
when made known through the city, brought many to acknow- 
ledge the truth of that religion whose minister could work such 
wonders ; and many believed in Christ. The field of labor which 
now opened to Peter in this place, seemed so wide that he did 
not continue his journey any further at that time, but took up his 
abode, for several days, in Joppa, lodging in the house of Simon, 
a tanner, whose house stood by the sea, near the water. 

Joppa, now called Jaffa.— This was from very early times a place of great impor- 
tance, from the circumstance of its being the nearest seaport to Jerusalem. It is men- 
tioned in reference to this particular of its situation, in 2 Chron. ii. 17, where it is 
specified (in Hebrew 12" 1 Japho) as the port to which the cedar timber from Lebanon 
should be floated down in rafts, to be conveyed to Jerusalem for building the tem- 
ple. It stood within the territories of the tribe of Dan, according to Josh. xix. 46, and 
lies about E. N. E. from Jerusalem. Strabo, (x\d.) in describing it, refers to it as 
the scene of the ancient Grecian fable of Andromeda rescued from the sea-monster 
by Perseus. He describes its site as " quite elevated, — so much so, indeed, that it 
was a common saying that Jerusalem might be seen from the place; the inhabitants 
of which city use it as their seaport, in all their maritime intercourse." Josephus 
mentions that it was added to the dominions of Herod the Great by Augustus. Its 
present appearance is thus described by travelers. 

" It is situated in lat. 32 deg. 2 min. N., and long. 34 deg. 53 min. E., and is forty 
miles W. of Jerusalem. Its situation, as the nearest port to the Holy City, has been 
the chief cause of its importance. As a station for vessels, according io Dr. Clarke,, 
its harbor is one of the worst in the Mediterranean. Ships generally anchor about a 
mile from the town, to avoid the shoals and rocks of the place. The badness of the- 
harbor is mentioned, indeed, by Josephus. (Josephus, Antiq. book xv. chap. 9.) * 
***** The road is protected by a castle built on a rock, and there 
are some storehouses and magazines on the sea-side. The coast is low, but little eleva- 
ted above the level of the sea ; but the town occupies an eminence, in the form of a 
sugar-loaf, with a citadel on the summit. The bottom of the hill is surrounded with 
a wall twelve or fourteen feet high, and two or three feet thick. * * * * 
There are no antiquities in Jaffa : the place would seem to be too old to have any — 
to have outlived all that once rendered it interesting. The inhabitants are estimated 
at between four and five thousand souls, of whom the greater part are Turks and 
Arabs ; the Christians are stated to be about six hundred, consisting of Roman Cath- 
olics, Greeks, Maronites, and Armenians." [Mod. Trav. Palest, pp. 41, 42.] 

Dorcas. — This is the Greek translation of the old Hebrew *2T£ (Tsebi,) in the Ara- 
maic dialect of that age, changed into tfrVSH ( Tabitha,) in English, " gazelle" a beau- 
tiful animal of the antelope kind, often mentioned in descriptions of the deserts of 
south-western Asia, in which it roams ; and not unfrequently the subject of poetical 
allusion. The species to which it is commonly supposed to belong, is the Antilopa 
Dorcas of Prof. Pallas, who named it on the supposition that it was identical with this 
animal, called by the Greeks, Aopws, (Dorkas,) from AepKo, (Derko,) "to look," from 
the peculiar brightness of " its soft black eye." 

THE CALL TO THE HEATHEN. 

The apostles had now, with great zeal and efficiency, preached 
the gospel of Jesus Christ to the worshipers of the true God, be- 
ginning at Jerusalem, and spreading the triumphs of his name to 
the bounds of the land of Israel. But in all their devotion to 
their Master's work, they had never had a thought of breaking 
over the bounds of the faith of their fathers, or of making their 



170 Peter's apostleship. 

doctrine anything else than a mere completion or accompaniment 
to the law of Moses ; nor did they imagine that they were ever 
to extend the blessings of the gospel to any who did not bow 
down to all the tedious rituals of the ancient covenant. The 
true power of their Lord's parting command. " Go and teach 
all nations" they had never felt ; and even now, their great chief 
supposed that the change of heart and remission of sins, which 
he was commissioned to preach, were for none but the devout ad- 
herents of the Jewish faith. A new and signal call was needed, 
to bring the apostles to a full sense of their enlarged duties ; and 
it is among the highest honors vouchsafed to Peter, that he was 
the person chosen to receive this new view of the boundless field 
now opened for the battles and triumphs of the cross. To him, 
as the head and representative of the whole band of the apostles, 
was now spread out, in all its moral vastness and its physical im- 
mensity, the coming dominion of that faith, whose little seed he 
was now cherishing, with but a humble hope ; but whose stately 
trunk and giant branches were, from that small and low begin- 
ning, to stretch, in a mighty growth, over lands, and worlds, to 
him unknown. Thus far he had labored with a high and holy 
zeal, in a cause whose vastness he had never appreciated, — every 
moment building up, unwittingly, a name for himself, which 
should outlast all the glories of the ancient covenant ; and se- 
curing for his Master a dominion which the religion of Moses 
could never have reached. He had never had an idea, that he 
with his companions was founding and spreading a new religion ; — 
to purify the religion of the law and the prophets, and to rescue 
it from the confusion and pollutions of warring sectaries, was all 
that they had thought of; yet with this end in view, they had 
been securing the attainment of one so far above and beyond, that 
a full and sudden view of the consequences of their humble deeds, 
would have appalled them. But though the mighty plan had 
never been whispered nor dreamed of, on earth, — though it was 
too immense for its simple agents to endure its full revelation at 
once, — its certain accomplishment had been ordained in heaven, 
and its endless details were to be fully learned only in its- triumphant 
progress through uncounted ages. But, limited as was the view 
which the apostles then had of the high destiny of the cause to 
which they had devoted themselves, it was yet greatly extended 
from the low-born notions with which they had first followed 
the steps of their Master. They now no longer entertained the 



Peter's apostleshjp* 171 

vagary of a worldly triumph and a worldly reward ; they had 
left that on the mount where their Lord parted from them, and 
they were now prayerfully laboring for the establishment of a 
pure spiritual kingdom in the hearts of the righteous. To give 
them a just idea of the exalted freedom to which the gospel brought 
its sons, and to open their hearts to a Christian fellowship, as 
wide as the whole human family, God now gave the apostolic 
leader an unquestionable call to tell to the world the glad tidings 
of salvation, for all men, through a new and living way, by change 
of heart and remission of sins. The incidents which led to this 
revelation are thus detailed. 

The peace and good order of Palestine were now secured by 
several legions, whose different divisions, larger or smaller ac- 
cording to circumstances, were quartered in all the strong or im- 
portant places m the country, to repress disorders, and enforce 
the authority of the civil power, when necessary. Besides this 
ordinary peace-establishment of the province, there was a cohort 
which took its name from the circumstance that it had been levied 
in Italy, — a distinction, now so rare, in consequence of the introduc- 
tion of foreign mercenaries into the imperial hosts, as to become 
the occasion of an honorable eminence, which was signified by 
the title here given, showing that this division of the Roman ar- 
mies was made up of the sons of that soil which had so long sent 
forth the conquerors of the world. Of all the variety of service 
required of the different detachments of the army, in the prov- 
ince which it guarded, by far the most honorable was that of be- 
ing stationed next the person of the governor of the province, to 
maintain the military dignity of his vice-imperial court, and defend 
his representative majesty. Caesarea, on the sea-shore, was now 
the seat of the Roman government of Palestine ; and here, in at- 
tendance on the person of the governor, was this aforesaid Ital- 
ian cohort, at the head of a company in which, was a centurion 
named Cornelius. Though nothing is given respecting his birth 
and family but this single name, a very slight knowledge of Ro- 
man history and antiquities enables the historian to decide, that 
he was descended from a noble race of patricians, which had pro- 
duced several of the most illustrious families of the imperial city. 
Eminent by this high birth and military rank, he must have been 
favored with an education worthy of his family and station. It 
is therefore allowable to conclude, that he was an intelligent and 
well-informed gentleman, whom years of foreign service, in the 



172 Peter's afostleshif. 

armies of his country must have improved by the combined ad- 
vantages of a traveler and a disciplined warrior. Of his moral 
and religious character such an account is given, as proves that 
his principles, probably implanted in early life, had been of such 
firmness as to withstand the numerous temptations of a soldier's 
life, and to secure him in a course of most uncommon rectitude 
in his duties towards God and towards man. In the merciful ex- 
ercise of his power over the people whose safety and quiet he 
came to maintain, and, moreover, in the generous use of his pe- 
cuniary advantages, he passed his blameless life ; and the high 
motive of this noble conduct, is discovered in the steady, pure de- 
votion, in which he employed many hours of daily retirement, 
and in which he caused his whole family publicly to join, on 
proper occasions. Thus is he briefly and strongly characterized 
by the sacred historian : " devout, and fearing God with all his 
house ; giving much alms, and praying to God always."' 

Noble roxe of patricians. — The gens Cornelia, or " Cornelian race," was uneqiialed 
in Rome for the great number of noble families sprung from its stock. The Scipios, 
the Sullas, the Dolabellas, the Cinnas, the Lentuli, the Cethegi, the Cossi, and many 
other illustrious branches of this great race, are conspicuous in Roman history; and 
the Fasti Consulares, record more than sixty of the Cornelian race, who had borne 
the consular dignity previous to the apostolic era. This is always a family name, and 
Ainsworth very grossly errs in calling it " the pracnomen of several Romans." Every 
Roman name of the middle and later ages of the commonwealth, had at least three 
parts, which were the pracnomen, marking the individual, — the nomen marking the 
gens, ("race," "stock,") and he cognomen, marking the family or division of that 
great stock. Thus in the name " Publius Cornelius Scipio," the last word shows 
that the person belonged to the Scipio family, which by the second word is seen to be 
of the great Cornelian stock, while the first shows that this member of the family was 
distinguished from his relations, by the name of Publius. (See Adams's Roman An- 
tiquities, on Names.) "Wherever this name, Cornelius, occurs, if the whole appella- 
tion of the man is given, this comes in the middle, as the nomen, marking the race ; 
as is the case with every one of those quoted by Ainsworth, in his blundering account 
of the word. See also Sallust, (Catil. 47, 55,) in defense of this peculiar limitation 
of the word to the gens. Not a single instance can be brought of its application to any 
person not of this noble patrician race, or of its use as a mere individual appellation. 
I am therefore authorized in concluding that L ais Cornelius mentioned in the Acts 
was related to this line of high nobility. It might, perhaps, be conjectured, that he 
had borrowed this name from that nolle race, from having once been in the service 
of some one of its families, as was common in the case of freedmen, after they had re- 
ceived their liberty ; but this supposition is not allowable ; for he is expressly particu- 
larized as belonging to an Italian division of the army, which fact excludes the idea 
of that foreign origin which would belong to a slave. The Jews having but one 
name for each man, seldom gave all of a Roman's name, unless of a very eminent 
man, as Pontius Pilate, Sergius Paulus, and other official characters ; but selecting 
any one of the three parts which might be most convenient, they made that the sole 
appellative, whether praenomcn, nomcn, or cognomen. As in Luke ii. 2 : Acts xxiii. 
24 : xxv. 1 : xxvii. 1 : xxviii. 7, &c. 

The Italian cohort.— The word Uneipa (Spcira) I translate " cohort," rather than 
" legion" as the older commentators did. Jerome translates it " cohortcm," and he 
must have known the exact technical force of the Greek word, and to what Latin 
military term it corresponded, from his living in the time when these terms must 
have been in frequent use. Those who prefer to translate it " legion," are misled by 
the circumstance, that Tacitus and other writers on Roman affairs, mention a legion 



peter's apostleship. 173 

which had the distinctive appellation of" the Italian Legion;" while it has been sup- 
posed that these ancient authors make no mention of an Italian cohort. But the deep- 
ly learned Wetstein, with his usual vast classical research, has shown several such 
passages, in Arrian and others, in which mention is made of an Italian cohort; and 
in. Grater's inscriptions, quoted by Kuinoel, there is an account of " a volunteer 
cohort of Italian soldiers in Syria;" and Palestine was at this time included with 
Syria, under the presidency of Petronius. This inscription, too, justifies my remark 
as to the high character of those who served in this corps. " Cohors militum Italico- 
mm voluntaria n seems to imply a body of soldiers of a higher character than the or- 
dinary mercenary mass of the army, being probably made up of volunteers from re- 
spectable families of Italy, who chose to enlarge their knowledge of the world by for- 
eign military service, in this very honorable station of life-guard to the Roman gov- 
ernor, as Doddridge and others suppose this to have been. (See Doddridge on this 
passage; also C. G. Schwartz in Wolf. Cur. Phil, in loc.) It is considered also as 
fairly proved that the " Italian legion" was not formed till a much later period ; so 
that it is rendered in the highest degree probable and unquestionable, that this was a 
cohort, and, as Schwartz and Doddridge prove, not a mere ordinary cohort, making 
the tenth part of a common legion of 4200, but a distinct and independent corps, at- 
tached to no legion, and devoted to the exclusive honorable service above mentioned. 
(See Bloomfield, Kuinoel, Rosenmueller, &c.) 

Devout. — Some have tried hard to make out that Cornelius was what they call 
u a proselyte of the gate ;" that is, one who, though not cireumcised, nor conform- 
ing to the rituals generally, yet was an observer of the moral law. But Lardner very 
fully shows that there were not two sorts of proselytes; all who bore that name fully 
conforming to the Jewish rituals, but still called "strangers," &c; because, though, 
admitted to all the religious privileges of the covenant, they were excluded from the 
civil and political privileges of Jews, and could not be freeholders. Cornelius must 
then have been a mere Gentile. (See Lardner in his life of Peter ; also Kuinoel and 
Bloomfield.) 

Caesarca. — This is another of those cities enlarged or rebuilt by the princes of the 
Herodian line, and honored with the names of the imperial family. This city stood on 
ilie sea-shore, about 30 miles N. of Joppa ; and (Mod. Trav.) 62 N. N. W. from Jeru- 
salem. (600 stad. Joseph.) It has been idly conjectured by the Rabbinical writers, 
that this was the same with Ekron, of the Old Testament, Zeph. ii. 4 ; while the Ar- 
abic version gives it as Hazor, Josh. xi. 1, — both with about equal probability. The 
earliest name by which it can be certainly recognized, is Apollonia, which it bore 
when it passed from the Syro-Grecians to the Maccabean princes. Its common name, 
in the time of Herod the Great, was nvpyog HrparMvos, turris Stratonis, " Straton's cas- 
tle," from the name of a Greek pirate who had built a strong hold here. Herod the 
Great made it the most splendid city in his dominions, and even in all the eastern 
part of the Roman empire ; and in honor of Augustus Caesar, called it Caesarea 
Augusta. It was sometimes called Caesarea Palestinae, to distinguish it from Cae- 
sarea Philippi ; for Palestine was then a name limited to the southern part of the 
coast of the Holy Land, and was bounded on the north by Phoenicia. This city was 
the capital of the whole Holy Land throughout the period of the later Herodian and 
Roman sway. 

To this man was sent the first heavenly call, which ended in 
bringing in the Gentiles to the knowledge of the truth revealed 
by Jesus. After having fasted all day, he was employed in his 
regular devotions, at the usual hour of prayer, (three o'clock in the 
afternoon,) when his senses were overwhelmed by a vision, in 
which he had a distinct view of a messenger of God, in shining 
garments, coming to him ; and heard him call him by his name, 
" Cornelius !" Looking at him as steadily as he was able in his 
great alarm, Cornelius asked, " What is it, Lord ?" The heavenly 
visitant replied, in words of consolation and high praise, " Thy 
prayers and thy alms have come up in remembrance before God. 

23 



174 Peter's apostleskip. 

And now send men to Joppa, and call for a man named Simon 
Peter, lodging with Simon, a tanner, whose house is by the sea- 
side. He, when he comes, shall tell thee what it is right that 
thou shouldst do." When the surprising messenger had given 
this charge, he departed ; and Cornelius, without delay, went to 
fulfil the minute directions he had received. He called two of his 
domestics, and a devout soldier of the detachment then on duty 
near him, and having related to them all that he had just seen 
and heard, he sent them to Joppa, to invite Peter according to the 
order. The distance between the two places is about thirty-five 
miles, and being too great to be easily traveled in one day, they 
journeye/1 thither during a part of two days, starting immediately 
when they received the command, though late in the afternoon. 
While they were continuing their journey, the next day, and were 
now near to the city of Joppa, Peter, without any idea of the im- 
portant task to which lie was soon to be summoned, went up, as 
usual, to the Alijah, or place of prayer, upon the house-top, at 
about twelve o'clock, mid-day. Having, according to the usual 
custom of the Jews, fasted for many hours, for the sake of keep- 
ing the mind clear from the effects of gross food on the body, and 
at length becoming sensible that he had pushed himself to the ut- 
most limits of safe abstinence, he wished for food, and ordered 
his dinner. While the servants were preparing it, he continued 
above, in the place of prayer, where, enfeebled by fasting, and 
over-wrought by mental effort, he fell into a state of spiritual ex- 
citement, in which the mind is most susceptible of strong impres- 
sions of things beyond the reach of sense. In this condition, there 
appeared to him a singular vision, which subsequent events soon 
enabled him fully to interpret. It seemed to him that a great 
sheet was let down from the sky, to which it was fastened by the 
four corners, containing on its vast surface all sorts of animals that 
were forbidden as food by the Mosaic law. While the apostle 
gazed upon this vast variety of animals, which education had 
taught him to consider unclean, there came a voice to him, call- 
ing him by name, and commanding him to arise, kill, and eat. 
All his prejudices and early religious impressions were roused by 
such a proposal ; and, resisting the invisible speaker as the agent 
of temptation to him in his bodily exhaustion, he replied, in all 
the pride of a scrupulous and unpolluted Jew, " By no means, 
Lord, because I have never eaten anything improper or unclean." 
The mysterious voice again said, u What God hath cleansed, do 



peter's apostleship. 17,5 

not thou consider improper." This impressive scene having been 
twice repeated, the whole was withdrawn back into heaven. This 
remarkable vision immediately called out all the energies of Pe- 
ter's mind, in its explanation. But before he had time to decide 
for himself what was meant by it, the messengers of Caesarea had 
inquired out the house of Simon, and, coming to the outside door, 
they called to learn whether Simon, who was surnamed Peter, 
lodged there. And while the mind of Peter was still intently oc- 
cupied with the vision, he received an intimation from the uner- 
ring spirit, that his presence was required elsewhere. " Behold ! 
three men are seeking thee, but rise up and go with them, without 
hesitation ; for I have sent them." Thus urged and encouraged, 
Peter went directly down to the men sent by Cornelius, and said, 
" Behold ! I am he whom ye seek. What is your object in com- 
ing here ?" They at once unfolded their errand. " Cornelius, a 
centurion, a just man, fearing God, and of good repute among all 
the Jews, was instructed by a holy messenger, to send for thee to 
his house, that he may hear something from thee." Peter, already 
instructed as to the proper reception of the invitation, asked them 
in, and hospitably entertained them till the next day, improving 
the delay, no doubt, by learning as many of the circumstances of 
the case as they could give him. The news of this remarkable 
call was also made known to the brethren of the church in Joppa, 
some of whom were so highly interested in what they heard that 
evening, that they resolved to accompany Peter the next day, with 
the messengers, to see and hear for themselves the details of a 
business which promised to result so fairly in the glory of Christ's 
name, and the wide enlargement of his kingdom. On the next 
day, the whole party set out together, and reached Caesarea, the 
second day of their journey ; and going straight to the house of 
Cornelius, they found quite a large company there, awaiting their 
arrival. For Cornelius, expecting them, had invited his relations 
and his intimate friends, to hear the extraordinary communica- 
tions which had been promised him, from his visitor. The kin- 
dred here alluded to were, perhaps, those of his wife, whom, ac- 
cording to a very common usage, he may have married in the 
place where he was stationed ; for it is hardly probable that a 
Roman captain from Italy could have had any of his own blood 
relations about him, unless, perhaps, some of them might have en- 
listed with him, and now been serving with him on this honorable 
post. His near friends, who completed the assembly, were prob- 



176 peter's apostleship. 

ably such of his brother officers as he knew to possess kindred 
tastes with himself, and to take an interest in religious matters. 
Such was the meeting that Peter found sitting in expectation of 
his coming ; and so high were the ideas which Cornelius had formed 
of the character of his visitor, that, as soon as he met him on his 
entrance into the house, he fell down at his feet, and paid him rev- 
erence as a superior being ; — an act of abasement towards the in- 
habitant of a conquered country, most rare and remarkable in a 
Roman officer, and one to which nothing but a notion of super- 
natural excellence could ever have brought him, since this was 
a position assumed not even by those who approached the empe- 
ror himself. Peter, however, had no desire to be made the object 
of a reverence so nearly resembling idolatry. Raising up the pros- 
trate Roman, he said, " Stand up : for I myself am also a man." 
Entering into familiar discourse with him, he now advanced into 
the house, and going with him to the great room, he there found 
a numerous company. He addressed them in these words : " You 
know how unlawful it is for a Jew to be familiar, or even to visit, 
with one of another nation ; but God has taught me to call no 
man vulgar or unclean. Wherefore, I came at your summons, 
without hesitation. Now, then, I ask with what design have you 
sent for mel" And "Cornelius said, " Four days ago, I was fasting 
till this hour ; and at the ninth hour I was praying in my house ;" 
and so having gone on to narrate all the circumstances of his vis- 
ion, as given above, concluded in these words, " For this reason 
I sent for thee, and thou hast done well in coming, for we are all 
here, before God, to hear what has been imparted to thee, from 
God.*' And Peter began solemnly to speak, and said, " Of a truth, 
I perceive that God is no respecter of persons ; but that in every 
nation, he that fears him and does what is right, is approved by 
him." With this solemn profession of a new view of this impor- 
tant principle of universal religion, as a beginning, he went on to 
satisfy their high expectations, by setting forth to them the sum 
and substance of the gospel doctrine, of whose rise and progress 
they had already, by report, heard a vague and partial account. 
The great and solemn truth which the Spirit had summoned him 
to proclaim, was that Jesus Christ the crucified was ordained by 
God the judge of both living and dead, and that through him, 
as all the prophets testified, every one that believed should have 
remission of sins. Of his resurrection from the dead, Peter de- 
clared himself the witness, as well as of his labors of °T>od will 



Peter's apostleshi-jt. 177 

towards man, when, anointed with the Spirit of God, lie went 
about doing good. Thus did Peter discourse, excited by the novel 
and divinely appointed occasion, till the same divine influence 
that moved his heart and tongue was poured out on his charmed 
hearers, and they forthwith manifested the signs of change of 
heart and devout faith in Christ, as the Son of God and the judge 
of the world ; and made known the delight of their new sensa- 
tions, in words of miraculous power. At this display of the 
equal and impartial grace of God, the Jewish church-members 
from Joppa, who had accompanied Peter to Caesarea, were great- 
ly amazed, having never before imagined it possible for the influ- 
ences of the divine spirit to be imparted to any who had not de- 
voutly conformed to all the rituals of the holy law of old given 
by God to Moses, whose high authority was attested amid the 
smoke and flame and thunder of Sinai. And what change was 
this ? In the face of this awful sanction, these believing follow- 
ers of Moses and Christ saw the outward - signs of the inward 
action of that Spirit which they had been accustomed to acknow- 
ledge as divine, now moving with the same holy energy the souls 
and voices of those born and bred among the heathen, without the 
consecrating aid of one of those forms of purification, by which 
Moses had ordained their preparation for the enjoyment of the 
blessings of God's holy covenant with his own peculiar people. 
Moved by that same mysterious and holy influence, the Gentile 
warriors of Rome now lifted up their voices in praise of the God 
of Israel and of Abraham, — doubtless too, their God and Father, 
though Abraham were ignorant of them, and Israel acknowledged 
them not ; since through his son Jesus a new covenant had been 
sealed in blood, opening and securing the blessings of that mer- 
ciful and faithful promise to all nations. On Jehovah they now 
called as their Father and Redeemer, whose name was from ever- 
lasting, — known and worshiped long ere Abraham lived. Never be- 
fore had the great partition-wall between Jews and Gentiles been 
thus broken down, nor had the noble and equal freedom of the new 
covenant ever yet been so truly and fully made known. And 
who was he that had thus boldly trampled on the legal usages of 
the ancient Mosaic covenant, as consecrated by the reverence of 
ages, and had imparted the holy signs of the Christian faith to 
men shut out from the mysteries of the inner courts of the house 
of God ? It was not a presumptuous or unauthorized man, nor 
one thoughtless of the vastly important consequences of the act. 



178 PETER'S APOSTLESHIP. 

It was the constituted leader of the apostolic hand, who now, in 
direct execution of his solemn commission received from his Mas- 
ter, and in the literal fulfilment of the prophetic charge given 
therewith at the base of distant Hermon, opened the gates of 
the kingdom of heaven to all nations. Bearing the keys of 
the kingdom of God on earth, he now, in the set time of divine 
appointment, at the call of his Master in heaven, so signally given 
to him both directly and indirectly, unlocked the long-closed door, 
and with a voice of heavenly charity, bade the waiting Gentiles 
enter. This was the mighty commission with which Jesus had 
so prophetically honored this chief disciple at Caesarea Philippe 
and here, at Caesarea Augusta, was achieved the glorious ful- 
filment of this before mysterious announcement ;- -Simon Peter 
now, in the accomplishment of that divinely appointed task, be- 
came the Rock, on which the church of Christ was, through the 
course of ages, reared ; and in this act, the first stone of its broad 
Gentile foundation was laid. 

On duty about him. — This phrase is the just translation of the technical term npoa- 
KaprepowTuiv, (proskartcroimton,) according to Price, Kuinoel, Bloomfield, &c. 

Of all the honors with which his apostolic career was marked, 
there is none which equals this, — the revolutionizing of the whole 
gospel plan as before understood and advanced by its devotees, — 
the enlargement of its scope beyond the widest range of any 
merely Jewish charity, — and the disenthralment of its subjects 
from the antique formality and cumbrous ritual of the Jewish 
worship. And of all the events which the apostolic history re- 
cords, there is none which, in its far-reaching and long-lasting ef- 
fects, can match the opening of Christ's kingdom to the Gentiles. 
What would have been the rate of its advancement under the 
management of those, who, like the apostles hitherto, looked on 
it as a mere improvement and spiritualization of the old Mosaic 
form, to which it was, in their view, only an appendage, and 
not a substitute ? Think of what chances there were of its ex- 
tension under such views to those far western lands where, ages 
asro, it reached with its benign influences the old Teutonic hordes 
from whom we draw our race ;— or of what possibility there was 
of ever bringing under the intolerable yoke of Jewish forms, the 
hundreds of millions who now, out of so many lands and kin- 
dreds and tongues, bear the light yoke, and own the simpler faith 
of Jesus, confessing him Lord, to the glory of God the Father. 
Yet hitherto, so far from seeing these things in their true light, 



PET£R*S APOSTLESHIP. 179 

all the followers of Christ had, notwithstanding his broad and 
open commission to them, steadily persisted in the notion, that 
the observance of the regulations laid down by Moses for prose- 
lytes to his faith, was equally essential for a full conversion to 
the faith of Christ. And now too, it required a new and dis- 
tinctly repeated summons from above, to bring even the great 
chief of the apostles to the just sense of the freedom of the gos- 
pel, and to the practical belief that God was no respecter of per- 
sons. But the whole progress of the event, with all its miracu- 
lous attestations, left so little doubt of the nature of the change, 
that Peter, after the manifestation of a holy spirit in the hearts 
and voices of the Gentile converts, triumphantly appealed to the 
Jewish brethren who had accompanied him from Joppa, and asked 
them, " Can any one forbid the water for the baptizing of these, 
who have received the Holy Spirit as well as we ?" Taking the 
unanimous suffrage of their silence to his challenge, as a full 
consent, he gave directions that the believing Romans should be 
baptized in the name of the Lord, as Jesus in his parting charge 
had constituted that ordinance for the seal of redemption to every 
creature, in all the nations to whom the gospel should be preached. 
Having thus formally enrolled the first Gentile converts, as the 
free and complete partakers of the blessings of the new covenant, 
he stayed among them several days, at their request, strengthen- 
ing their faith, and enlarging their knowledge by his pastoral in- 
struction ; which he deemed a task of sufficient importance to de- 
tain him, for a while, from his circuit among the new concerts, 
scattered about in other places throughout Palestine, and from any 
immediate return to his friends and converts at Joppa, where this 
call had found him. 

Meanwhile, this mighty innovation on the established order of 
sacred things could not be long unknown beyond the cities of 
Caesarea and Joppa, but was soon announced by the varied voice 
of rumor to the amazed apostles and brethren at Jerusalem. The 
impression made on them by this vague report of their great 
leader's proceedings, was most decidedly unfavorable ; and there 
seem to have been not a few who regarded this unprecedented 
act of Peter as a downright abuse of the dignity and authority 
with which the special commission of his Master had invested 
him. Doubtless, in that little religious community, as in every 
other association of men ever gathered, there were already many 
human jealousies springing up like roots of bitterness, which 



180 peter ; s apostleship, 

needed but such an occasion as this, to manifest themselves m 
decided censure of the man, whose remarkable exaltation over 
them might seem like a stigma on the capacities or merits of those 
to whom he was preferred. Those in whose hearts such feelings 
had been rankling, now found a great occasion for the display of 
their religious zeal, in this bold movement of their constituted 
leader, who herein seemed to have presumed on his distinction 
and priority, to act in a matter of the very highest importance, 
without the slightest reference to the feelings and opinions of 
those, who had been with him chosen for the great work of spread- 
ing the gospel to all nations. And so much of free opinion and 
expression was there among them, that this act of the chief apos- 
tle called forth complaints both deep and loud, from his brethren, 
against this open and unexplained violation of the holy ordi- 
nances of that ancient law, which was still to them and him the 
seal and sign of salvation. Peter, at length, after completing his 
apostolic circuit among the churches, of which no farther account 
is given to us, returned to Jerusalem to meet these murmurs with 
the bold and clear declaration of the truth. As soon as he arri- 
ved, the grumblers burst out on him with open complaints of his 
offensive violations of the strict religious exclusiveness of de- 
meanor, which became a son of Israel professing the pure reform- 
ed faith of Jesus. The unhesitating boldness with which this 
charge of a breach of order was made against Peter by the sticklers 
for circumcision, is a valuable and interesting proof, that all his 
authority and dignity among them, did not amount to anything- 
like a supremacy ; and that whatever he might bind or loose on 
earth for the high sanction of heaven, he could neither bind the 
tongues and opinions, nor loose the consciences of these sturdy 
and free-spoken brethren. Nor does Peter seem to have had the 
least idea of claiming any exemption from their critical review of 
his actions ; but straightway addressed himself respectfully to 
them, in a faithful detail of his conduct, and the reasons of it. 
He distinctly recounted to them the clear and decided call which 
he considered himself to have received from heaven, by which 
he was summoned as the spiritual guide of the inquiring Gen- 
tiles. And after the honest recital of the whole series of inci- 
dents, and of the crowning act of the whole, the imparting to 
them the outward sign of inward washing from their sins, he 
boldly appealed to the judgments of his accusers, to say whether, 
in the face of such a sanction; they would have had him do other- 



peter's apostleship. 181 

wise. " When the Holy Ghost fell on them, as on us at the be= 
ginning, then remembered I the word of the Lord, how that he 
said," (when parting from us, on the top of Olivet, to rise to the 
bosom of his father, prophetically announcing a new and holy 
consecration and endowment for our work,) " John indeed bap- 
tized with water, but ye shall be baptized with the Holy Ghost." 
This peculiar gift thus solemnly announced, we had indeed re- 
ceived at the pentecost, and its outward signs we had thereby 
i earned infallibly by our own experience ; and even so, at Caesa- 
rea, I recognized in those Gentiles the same tokens by which I 
knew the workings of divine grace in myself and you. " Foras- 
much, then, as God gave them the like gift as to us, who believed 
on the Lord Jesus Christ, what was I, that I should withstand 
God V — This clear and unanswerable appeal silenced the clamors 
of the bold assertors of the inviolability of Mosaic forms ; and 
when they heard these things, they held their peace, and, softened 
from their harsh spirit of rebuke, the}?-, in a noble feeling of truly 
Christian triumph, forgot all their late cxclusiveness, in a pure 
joy for the new and vast extension of the dominion of Christ, se- 
cured by this act, whose important consequences they were not 
slow in perceiving. They praised God for such a beginning of 
mighty results, and laying aside, in this moment of exultation, 
every feeling of narrow Jewish bigotry, they acknowledged that 
" to the Gentiles also, God had granted repentance unto life." 

HEROD AGRIPPA. 

At this time, the monarch of the Roman world was Caius 
Caesar, commonly known by his surname, Caligula. ~- Among the 
first acts of a reign, whose outset was deservedly popular for its 
numerous manifestations of prudence and benevolence, forming a 
strange contrast with subsequent tyranny and folly, was the ad- 
vancement of a tried and faithful friend, to the regal honors and 
power which his birth entitled him to claim, and from which the 
neglectful indifference at first, and afterwards the revengeful spite 
of the preceding Caesar, Tiberius, had long excluded him. This 
was Herod Agrippa, grandson of that great Herod, who, by the 
force of his own exalted genius, and by the favor of the imperial 
Augustus, rose from the place of a friendless foreign adventurer, 
to the kingly sway of all Palestine. This extensive power he 
exercised in a manner which was, on the whole, ultimately ad- 
vantageous to his subjects ; but his whole reign, and the later 
years of it more particularly, were marked by cruelties the most 

24 



182 Peter's apostleship- 

iufaiBPUSj to which he was led by almost insane fits of the most 
causeless jealousy. On none of the subjects of his power, did 
this tyrannical fury fall with such frequent and dreadful visita- 
tions, as on his own family ; and it was there, that, in his alter- 
nate fits of fury and remorse, he was made the avenger of his 
own victims. Among these numerous domestic cruelties, one of 
the earliest, and the most distressing, was the murder of the amia- 
ble Mariamne, the daughter of the last remnants of the Asmo- 
naean line, — 

" Herself the solitary scion left 
Of a time-honored race," 

which Herod's remorseless policy had exterminated. Her he made 
his wife, and after a few years sacrificed her to some wild freak 
of jealousy, only to reap long years of agonizing remorse for the 
hasty act, when a cooler search had shown, too late, her stainless 
innocence. But a passionate despot never yet learned wisdom by 
being made to feel the recoil of his own folly ; and in the course 
of later years this cruelty was equalled, and almost outdone, by 
a similar act, committed by him on those whom her memory 
should have saved, if anything could. The innocent and unfor- 
tunate Mariamne left him twc sons, then mere children, whom 
the miserable, repentant tyrant, cherished and reared with an af- 
fectionate care, which might almost have seemed a partial atone- 
ment for the injuries of their murdered mother. After some 
years passed in obtaining a foreign education at the imperial 
court of Rome, these two sons, Alexander and Aristobulus, re~ 
turned at their father's summons, to his court, where their noble 
qualities, their eloquence and manly accomplishments, as well as 
the interest excited by their mother's fate, drew on them the fa- 
vorable and admiring regard of the whole people. But all that 
made them admirable and amiable to others, was as powerless as 
the memory of their mother, to save them from the fury of the 
suspicious tyrant. Those whose interests could be benefited by 
such a course, soon found means to make them objects of jealousy 
and terror to him, and ere long involved them in a groundless 
accusation of conspiring against his dominion and life. The 
uneasiness excited in Herod by their great popularity and their 
commanding talents, led him to believe this charge ; and the mise- 
rable old tyrant, driven from fear to jealousy, and from jealousy 
to fury, at last crowned his own wretchedness and their wrongs, 
by strangling them both, after an imprisonment of so great a 



peter's apostleship. 183 

length as to take away from his crime even the shadowy excuse 
of hastiness. This was one of the last acts of a bloody life ; 
but ere he died, returning tenderness towards the unfortunate 
race of Mariamne, led him to spare and cherish the infant chil- 
dren of Aristobulus, the younger of the two, who left three sons 
and two daughters to the tender mercies of his cruel father. One 
of these was the person who is concerned in the next event of Pe- 
ter's life, and whose situation and conduct in reference to that affair, 
was such as to justify this prolonged episode. He received in 
infancy the name of Agrippa, out of compliment to Marcus Vip- 
sanius Agrippa, the favorite and minister of Augustus Caesar, and 
the steady friend of the great Herod. This name was exclusively 
borne by this son of Aristobulus in childhood, nor was it ever 
displaced by any other, except by some of the Jews, who, out of 
compliment to the restoration of the Herodian line of kings, in 
place of the Roman sub-governors, gave him the name of his 
royal grandfather, so that he is mentioned only by the name of 
Herod in the story of the Acts of the Apostles ; but the Romans 
and Greeks seem to have known him only by his proper name of 
Agrippa. The tardy repentance of his grandfather did not ex- 
tend to any important permanent provision for the children of 
Aristobulus ; but on his death a few years after, they were left 
with the g-reat majority of the numerous progeny of Herod, to 
the precarious fortunes of dependent princes. The young Agrip- 
pa having married his own cousin, Cypros, the daughter of a 
daughter of Herod and Mariamne, sailed to Rome, where he re- 
mained for several years, a sort of beggar about the court of Ti- 
berius Caesar, through whose favor he hoped for an advancement 
to some one of the thrones in Palestine, which seemed to be pri- 
zes for any of Herod's numerous descendents who could best se- 
cure the imperial favor, and depress the possessors in the Caesar's 
opinion. Passing at Rome and elsewhere through a romantic vari- 
ety of fortune, this adventurer was at last lucky in securing to him- 
self the most friendly regard of Caius Caesar, then the expected suc- 
cessor of the reigning emperor. This afterwards proved the ba- 
sis of his fortunes, which for a while, however, were darkened by 
the consequences of an imprudent remark made to Caius, ex- 
pressive of a wish for the death of Tiberias, which was reported 
to the jealous tyrant by a listening slave, and finally caused the 
speaker's close imprisonment during the rest of the emperor's 
life. The death of Tiberius, followed by the accession of Caius 



184 peter's apostleship. 

Caesar to the throne, raised Agrippa from his chains to freedom, 
and to the most intimate favor of the new monarch. The te- 
trarchy of Iturea and Trachonitis, then vacant by the death of 
Philip, was immediately conferred on him ; and soon after, Herod 
Antipas having been exiled, his territories, Galilee and Peraea, 
were added to the former dominions of Herod Agrippa, and with 
them was granted to him the title of king, which had never yet 
been given to any of the descendents of Herod the Great. In 
this state were the governments of these countries at the time 
of the events last narrated ; but Herod Agrippa, often visiting 
Rome, left all Palestine in the hands of Publius Petronins, the 
just and benevolent Roman president of Syria. In this state, 
affairs remained during all the short reign of Cains Caligula Cae- 
sar, who, after four years mostly characterized by folly, vice and 
cruelty, ended his days by the doggers of assassins. But this 
great event proved no check to the flourishing fortunes of his fa- 
vorite, king Herod Agrippa; who, in the course of the events 
which ended in placing Claudius on the throne, so distinguished 
himself in the preliminary negociations between the new emperor 
and the senate, sharing as he did the confidence and regard of 
both parties, that he was justly considered by all, as the most act- 
ive means of effecting the comfortable settlement of their difficul- 
ties ; and he was therefore deemed well deserving of the highest 
rewards. Accordingly, the first act of Claudius's government, 
like the first of Caligula's, was the presentation of a new king- 
dom to this favorite of fortune, — Judea being now added to the 
other countries in his possession, and thus bringing all Palestine 
into one noble kingdom, beneath his extensive sway. With a 
dominion comprising all that the policy of his grandfather had 
been able to attain during a long and active life, he now found 
himself, at the age of fifty-one, one of the most extraordinary in- 
stances of romantic fortune that had ever occurred ; and anx- 
ious to enjoy something of the solid pleasure of visiting and gov- 
erning his great and flourishing kingdom, he set sail from Rome, 
which had been so long to him the scene of such varied fortune, 
such calamitous poverty an J tedious imprisonment, — and now pro- 
ceeded as the proud king of Palestine, going home in triumph to 
the throne of his ancestor, supported by the most boundless 
pledges of imperial favor. The emperor Claudius, though re- 
gretting exceedingly the departure of the tried friend whom he 
had so much reason to love and cherish, yet would not detain 



peter's apostleship. 1S5 

him from a happiness so noble and desirable, as that of arranging 
and ruling his consolidated dominion. Even his departure, how- 
ever, was made the occasion of new marks of imperial favor ; 
for Claudius gave him letters by which all Roman governors were 
bound to acknowledge and support him as the rightful sovereign 
of Palestine. He arrived in Palestine shortly after, and just be- 
fore the passover, made his appearance in Jerusalem, where he 
was received with joy and hope by the expecting people, who 
hailed with open hearts a king whose interests would be identi- 
fied with theirs, and with the glory of the Jewish name. His 
high and royal race, — his own personal misfortunes and the un- 
happy fate of his early-murdered father, as well as his descent 
from the lamented Mariamne, — his well-known amiability of char- 
acter, and his regard for the holy Jewish faith, which he had 
shown by exerting and even risking all his favor with Caligula 
to prevent, in co-operation with the amiable Petronius, the profa- 
nation of the temple as proposed by the erection of the emperor's 
statue within it, — all served to throw a most attractive interest 
around him, and to excite brilliant hopes, which his first acts im- 
mediately more than justified. The temple, though now so re- 
splendent with the highest achievments of art, and though so vast 
in its foundations and dimensions, was still considered as having- 
some deficiencies, so great, that nothing but royal munificence 
could supply them. The Jews therefore seized the fortunate oc- 
casion of the accession of their new and amiable monarch to his 
throne, to obtain the perfection of a work on Avhich the hearts of 
the people were so much set, and the completion of which would 
so highly advance the monarch in the popular favor. The king 
at once benignantly heard their request, and gladly availing him- 
self of this opportunity to gratify his subjects, and secure a re- 
gard from them which might some day be an advantage to him, 
immediately ordered the great work to proceed at his expense. 
The satisfaction of the people and the Sanhedrim was now at the 
highest pitch ; and, emboldenened by these displays of royal fa- 
vor, some of the sage plotters among them hoped to obtain from 
him a favorable hearing on a matter which they deemed of still 
deeper importance to their religion, and in which his support was 
equally indispensable. This matter brings back the forsaken nar- 
rative to consideration. 

Herod Agrippa.— All the interesting details of this richly romantic life, are given 
in a most delightful style by Josephus. (Ant. XVIII. v. 3 — viii. 9. and XIX. i— ix.) 



S86 peter's apostleship. 

The same is more concisely given by the same author in another place. (War if. 
ix. 5, — xi. 6.) The prominent events of Petronius's administration, are also given 
in the former. 

THE PEACEFUL PROGRESS OP THE FAITH. 

The apostles, after the great events last narrated, gave them- 
selves with new zeal to the work which was now so vastly ex- 
tended by the opening of the wide field of the Gentiles. Others 
of the refugees from the popular rage, at the time of Stephen's 
murder, had gone even beyond the boundaries of Palestine, bring- 
ing into the sphere of apostolic operations a great number of in- 
teresting subjects, before unthought of. Some of the bold, free 
workers, who had heard of the late changes in the views of the 
apostles, respecting the characters of those for whom the gospel 
was designed, now no longer limited their efforts of love to the 
children of the stock of Abraham, but proclaimed the faith of Je- 
sus to those who had before never heard his name. The gospel 
was thus carried into Syria and Cyprus, and thence rapidly spread 
into many other countries, where Macedonian conquest and Hel- 
lenic colonization had made the Greek the language of cities, 
courts, commerce, and, to a great extent, of literature. The great 
city of Antioch soon became a sort of metropolis of the numerous 
churches, which sprang up in that region, beyond the immediate 
reach of Jerusalem, now the common home of the apostles, and 
the center of the Christian, as of the Jewish faith. Grecians as 
well as Jews, in this new march of the gospel, were made sharers 
in its blessings ; and the multiplication of converts among them 
was so rapid as to give a new importance, at once, to this sort of 
Christians. The communication of these events to the apostles 
at Jerusalem, called for some systematic action on their part, to 
confirm and complete the good work thus begun by the random 
and occasional efforts of mere wandering fugitives from persecu- 
tion. They accordingly selected persons especially fitted for this 
field of labor, and despatched them to Antioch, to fulfil the duties 
imposed on the apostles in refereuce to this neAV opening. The 
details of the operations of these new laborers, will be given in 
their lives hereafter. 

In performing the various offices required in their domestic and 
foreign fields of labor, now daily multiplying, Peter and his asso- 
ciates had continued for several years steadily occupied, but achiev- 
ing no particular action that has received notice in the history of 
their acts ; so that the most of this part of their lives remains a 



187 

blank to the modern investigator. All that is known is, that be- 
tween the churches of Syria and Palestine there was established 
a frequent friendly intercourse, more particularly between the 
metropolitan churches of Jerusalem and Antioch. From the for- 
mer went forth preachers to instruct and confirm the new and un- 
taught converts of the latter, who had been so lately strangers to 
God's covenant of promise with his people ; while from the thriv- 
ing and benevolent disciples of Antioch were sent back, in grate- 
ful recompense, the free offerings of such aid as the prevalence of 
a general dearth made necessary for the support of their poor and 
friendless brethren in Jerusalem ; and the very men who had been 
first sent to Antioch with the commission to build up and strength- 
en that infant church, now returned to the mother church at Je- 
rusalem, with the generous relief which gratitude prompted these 
new sons to render to the authors of their faith. 

ROMAN TOLERANCE. 

These events and the occasion of them occurred in the reign 
of Claudius Caesar, as Luke particularly records, — thus marking* 
the lapse of time during the unregistered period of the apostolic 
acts ; which is also confirmed by the circumstances of Herod 
Agrippa's reign, mentioned immediately after, as occurring " about 
that time ;" for, as has been specified above, Herod Agrippa did 
not rule Judea till the reign of Claudius. The crucifixion of 
Jesus occurred three years before the death of Tiberius ; and 
as the whole four years of the reign of Caligula was passed over 
in this space, it could not have been less than ten years after the 
crucifixion, when these events took place. This calculation al- 
lows time for such an advance of the apostolic enterprise, as 
would, under their devoted energy, make the sect most formida- 
ble to those who regarded its success as likely to shake the secu- 
rity of the established order of religious things, by impairing the 
popular reverence for the regularly constituted heads of Judaism. 
Such had been its progress, and such was the impression made 
by its advance. There could no longer be any doubt as to the 
prospect of its final ascendency, if it was quietly left to prosper 
under the steady and devoted labors of its apostles, with all the 
advantages of the re-action which had taken place from the former 
cruel persecution which they had suffered. For several years 
the government of Palestine had been in such hands that the 
Sanhedrim had few advantages for securing the aid of the secu- 
lar power, in consummating their exterminating plans against the 



18S PETJEIl's APOSTLES'HIP, 

growing heresy. Not long after the time of Pilate, the govern- 
ment of Judea had been committed by the emperor to Pnblius Pe~ 
tronius, the president of Syria, a man who, on the valuable testi- 
mony of Josephus, appears to have been of the most amiable and 
upright character, — wholly devoted to the promotion of the real 
interests of the people whom he ruled. On several occasions, he 
distinguished himself by his tenderness towards the peculiarly 
delicate religious feelings of the Jews, and once even risked and 
incurred the wrath of the vindictive- Caligula, by disobeying his 
commands to profane the temple at Jerusalem by the erection of 
that emperor's statue within its holy courts, — a violation of the pu- 
rity of the place which had been suggested to his tyrannical ca- 
price by the spiteful hint of Apion, of Alexandria. But though 
Petronius, in this matter, showed a disposition to incur every haz- 
ard to spare the national and devotional feelings of the Jews so 
awful an infliction, there is nothing in his conduct which would 
lead us to suppose that he would sacrifice justice to the gratifica- 
tion of the persecuting malice of the Jews, any more than to the 
imperious tyranny of Caligula. The fairest conclusion from the 
events of his administration, is, that he regulated his behavior 
uniformly by his own sense of justice, with hardly any reference 
to the wild impulses, either of popular or imperial tyranny. A no- 
ble personification of independent and invincible justice ; but one 
not beyond the range of the moral conceptions of a Roman, even 
under the corrupt and corrupting rule of the Caesars ; — for thus 
wrote the great moral poet of the Augustan age, though breathing 
the enervating air of a servile court, and living on the favor of a 
monarch who exacted from his courtiers a reverence truly idol- 
atrous : 

Justum et tenacem propositi virum, 
Non civium ardor prava jubentium, 
Non vultus instantis tyranni 
Mente quatit solida. * * * 

The moral energy of the Roman character made the exempli- 
fications of this fair ideal not uncommon, even in these latter days 
of Roman glory. There were some like Petronius, who gave life 
and reality to this poetical conception of Horace, — " A man just 
and resolute, unshaken from his firm purpose alike by the wild 
impulses of popular rage, and by the frown of an overbearing ty- 
rant." And these were among the chief blessings of the Roman 
sway, to those lauds .iu which it ruled,— that the great interests 
of the country were not subjected to the blind movements of a 



peter's apostleship. 189 

perverse public opinion, changing with each year, and frustrating 
every good which required a steady policy for its accomplish- 
ment, — that the majority of the people were not allowed to tyran- 
nize over the minority, nor the minority over the majority ; — and 
that a mighty power amenable to neither, but whose interest and 
glory would always coincide with the good of the whole, held over 
all a dominion unchecked by the demands of popular caprice. 
But, alas ! for the imperfections of all human systems ; — among 
the curses of that Roman sway, must be numbered its liability to 
fall from the hands of the wise and amiable, into those of the stu- 
pid and brutal ; changes which but too often occurred,— overturn- 
ing, by the mismanagement of a moment, the results of years of 
benevolent and prudent policy, xlnd in this very case, all the 
benefits of Petronius's equitable and considerate rule, were utterly 
neutralized and annihilated by the foolishness or brutality of his 
successors, till the provoked irritability of the nation at last broke 
out with a fierceness that for a time overcame the securities even 
of Roman dominion, and was finally quieted only in the utter ruin 
of the whole Jewish nation. But during the period of several 
years following the exit of Pilate, its beneficial energy was felt in 
the quiet tolerance of religious opinion, which he enforced on all, 
and which was most highly advantageous to the progress of the 
doctrine of Christ. To this circumstance may- justly be referred 
that remarkable repose enjoyed by the apostles and their follow- 
ers from all the interference with their labors by the Roman gov- 
ernment. The death of Jesus Christ himself, indeed, was the only 
act in which the civil power had interfered at all ! for the mur- 
der of Stephen was a mere freak of mob-violence, a mere Lynch- 
law proceeding, which the Roman governor would not have sanc- 
tioned, if it had been brought under his cognizance, — being done 
as it was, so directly in the face of those principles of religious 
tolerance which the policy of the empire enforced every where, 
excepting cases in which sedition and rebellion against their do- 
minion was combined with religious zealotism, like the instances 
of the Gaulanitish Judas, Theudas, and others. Even Jesus him- 
self, was thus accused by the Jews, and was condemned by Pi- 
late for his alleged endeavors to excite a revolt against Caesar, 
and opposing the payment of the Roman taxes, — as is shown by 
the statement of all the evangelists, and more particularly by Pi- 
late's inscription on the cross. The persecution which followed 
the murder of Stephen was not carried on under the sanction of 

25 



190 



PETER'S APOSTLESHIP. 



the Roman government, nor yet was it against their authority ; for 
they permitted to the Sanhedrim the punishment of most minor 
offences, so long as they did not go beyond imprisonment, scourg- 
ing, banishment, &c. But the punishment of death was entirely 
reserved to the civil and military power ; and if the Jewish mag- 
nates had ever formally transgressed this limitation, they would 
have been instantly punished for it, as a treasonable assumption 
of that supreme power which their conquerors were determined to 
guard with the most watchful jealousy. The Sanhedrim, being 
thus restricted in their means of vengeance, were driven to the 
low expedient of stirring up the lawless mob to the execution of 
these deeds of desperate violence, which their religious rulers could 
wink at, and yet were prepared to disown, when questioned by the 
Romans, as mere popular ferments, over which they had no con- 
trol whatever. So they mauaged with Stephen : for his murder 
was no doubt preconcerted among the chief men, who caused the 
formal preamble of a trial, with the design of provoking the mob, 
in some way, to this act ; in which scheme they were too much 
favored by the fiery spirit of the martyr himself, who had not pa- 
tience enough with their bigotry, to conceal his abhorrence of it. 
Their subsequent systematic and avowed acts of violence, it should 
be observed, were all kept strictly within the well-defined limits 
of their penal jurisdiction ; for there is no evidence whatever that 
any of the persecuted Hellenists ever suffered death by the con- 
demnation of the Sanhedrim, or by the sentence of a Roman tribu- 
nal. The progress of these events, however, showed that this 
irritating and harassing system of whippings, imprisonments and 
banishments, had a tendency rather to excite the energies of these 
devoted heretics, than to check or crush their spirit of innovation 
and denunciation. Among the numerous instances of malignant 
assault on the personal rights of these sufferers, and the cruel vi- 
olation of the delicacy due to the weaker sex, there must have 
been, also, many occasions in which the ever-varying feelings of 
the public would be moved to deep sympathy with sufferers who 
bore, so steadily and heroically, punishments manifestly dispro- 
portioned to the offense with which they were charged, — a sym- 
pathy which might finally rise to a high and resistless indignation 
against their remorseless oppressors. It is probable, therefore, that 
this persecution was at last allayed by other causes than the mere 
defection of its most zealous agent. The conviction must have been 
forced ou the minds of the persecutors, that this system, with all 



peter's apostleship. 191 

its paltry and vexatious details, must be given up, or exchanged 
for one whose operations should be so vast and sweeping in its 
desolating vengeance, as to overawe and appal, rather than awaken 
zeal in the objects of the punishment, or sympathy in the behold- 
ers. The latter alternative, however, was too hopeless, under the 
steady, benignant sway of Petronius, to be calculated upon, until 
a change should take place which should give the country a ruler 
of less independent and scrupulous character, and more disposed 
to sacrifice his own moral sense to the attainment of favor with the 
most important subjects of his government. Until that desirable 
end should be attained, in the course of the frequent changes of 
the imperial succession, it seemed best to let matters take their own 
course ; and they accordingly dropped all active proceedings, 
leaving the new sect to progress as it might, with the impulse 
gained from the re-action consequent on this late unfortunate ex- 
citement against it. But they still kept a watchful eye on their 
proceedings, though with hands for a while powerless ; and treas- 
ured up accumulating vengeance through tedious years, for the 
day when the progress of political changes should bring the sec- 
ular power beneath their influence, and make it subservient to 
their purpose of dreadful retribution. That day had now fully 
come. 

peter's threatened martyrdom. 
The long expected favorite and friend of the Jewish people, 
having been thus hailed sovereign by their grateful voices, and 
having strengthened his throne and influence by his opening acts 
of liberality and devotion to the national faith, now entered upon 
a reign which presented only the portents of a course most aus- 
picious to his own fame and his people's good. Uniting in his 
person the claims of the Herod ian and Asmonaean lines, — with 
the blood of the heroic Maccabees in his veins, — crowned by the 
imperial lord of the civilized world, whose boundless power was 
pledged in his support, by the obligations of an intimate personal 
friendship, and of a sincere gratitude for the attainment of the 
throne of the Caesars through his prompt and steady exertions, — 
received with universal joy and hope by all the dwellers of the 
consolidated kingdoms of his dominion, which had been long 
thriving under the mild and equitable administration of a prudent 
governor, — there seemed nothing wanting to complete the happy 
auspices of a glorious reign, under which the ancient honors of 
Israel should be more than retrieved from the decline of aofes. 



192 



PETERS APOSTLESHTP. 



Yet what avails the bright array of happily conspiring circum- 
stances, to prince or people, against the awful majesty of divine 
truth, or the pure, simple energy of human devotion? Within the 
obscurer corners of his vast territories, creeping for room under 
the outermost colonnades of that mighty temple whose glories he 
had pledged himself to renew, — wandering like outcasts from place 
to place, — seeking supporters only among the unintellectual mass 
of the people, — were a set of men of whom he probably had not 
heard until he entered his own dominions. They were now sug- 
gested to his notice for the first time, by the decided voice of 
censure from the devout and learned guardians of the purity 
of the law of God, who invoked the aid of his sovran power, 
to check and utterly uproot this heresy, which the unseasonable 
tolerance of Roman government had too long shielded from the 
just visitations of judicial vengeance. Nor did the royal Agrippa 
hesitate to gratify, in this slight and reasonable matter, the express 
wishes of the reverend heads of the Jewish faith and law. Ah ! 
how little did he think, that in that trifling movement was bound 
up the destiny of ages, and that its results would send his name — 
though then so loved and honored— like Pharaoh's, down to all 
time, a theme of religious horror and holy hatred, to the unnum- 
bered millions of a thousand races, and lands then unknown ; — 
an awful doom, from which one act of benign protection, or of 
prudent kindness, to that feeble band of hated, outcast innovators, 
might have retrieved his fame, and canonized it in the faithful 
memory of the just, till the glory of the old patriarchs and proph- 
ets should grow dim. But, without one thought of consequences, 
a prophetic revelation of which would so have appalled him, he 
unhesitatingly stretched out his arm in vindictive cruelty over the 
church of Christ, for the gratification of those whose praise was 
to him more than the favor of God. Singling out first the per- 
son whom momentary circumstances might render most promin- 
ent or obnoxious to censure, he at once doomed to a bloody death 
the elder son of Zebedee, the second of the great apostolic three. 
No sooner was this cruel sentence executed, than, with a most 
remarkable steadiness in the execution of his bloody plan, he fol- 
lowed up this action, so pleasing to the Jews, by another similar 
movement. Peter, the active leader of the heretical host, ever 
foremost in braving the authority of the constituted teachers of 
the law, and in exciting commotion and dissatisfaction among the 
commonalty, was now seized by a military force, too strong to 



peter's apostleship. 193 

fear any resistance from popular movements, which had so much 
deterred the Sanhedrim. This occurred during the week of the 
passover ; and such was king Agrippa's profound regard for all 
things connected with his national religion, that he would not vi- 
olate the sanctity of this holy festival by the execution of a crim- 
inal, however deserving of vengeance he might seem in that in- 
stance. The fate of Peter being thus delayed, he was therefore 
committed to prison, (probably in castle Antonia,) and to prevent, 
all possibility of his finding means to escape prepared ruin again, 
he was confined to the charge of sixteen Roman soldiers, divided 
into four sets, of four men each, who were to keep him under con- 
stant supervision day and night, by taking turns, each set an equal 
time ; and according to the established principles of the Roman 
military discipline, with the perfect understanding that if, on the 
conclusion of the passover, the prisoner was not forthcoming, the 
guards should answer the failure with their lives. These decided 
and careful arrangements being made, the king, with his gratified 
friends in the Sanhedrim and among the rabble, gave themselves 
up to the enjoyment of the great national festival, with a peculiar 
zest, hightened by the near prospect of the utter overthrow of the 
advancing heresy, by the sweeping blow that robbed them of their 
two great leaders, and more especially of him who had been so 
active in mischievous attempts to perpetuate the memory of the 
original founder of the sect, and to frustrate the good effect of his 
bloody execution, by giving out that the crucified Jesus still lived, 
and would yet come in vengeance on his murderers. While such 
triumphant reflections swelled the festal enjoyments of the pow- 
erful foes of Christ, the unhappy company of his persecuted disci- 
ples passed through this anniversary-week with the most mourn- 
ful reminiscences and anticipations. Ten years before, in unutter- 
able agony and despair, they had parted, as they then supposed 
forever, with their beloved Lord ; and now, after years of devo- 
tion to the work for which he had commissioned them, they were 
called to renew the deep sorrows of that parting, in the removal 
of those who had been foremost among them in the great work, 
cheering them and leading them on through toil and peril, with a 
spirit truly holy, and with a fearless energy, kindred with that of 
their divine Lord. Of these two divinely appointed chiefs, one 
had already poured out his blood beneath the executioner's sword, 
and the other, their great leader, the Bock of the church, was now 
only waiting the speedy close of the festal week, to crown his glo- 



194 



APOSTLESHIP. 



rious course, and his enemies' cruel policy, by the same bloody 
doom ; meanwhile held in the safe keeping- of an ever-watchful 
Roman guard, forbidding even the wildest hope of escape. Yet 
why should they wholly despair ? On that passover, ten years be- 
fore, how far more gloomy and hopeless the glance they threw on 
the cross of their Lord ! Yet from that doubly hopeless darkness r 
what glorious light sprang up to them ? And was the hand that 
then broke through the bands of death and the gates of Hades, 
now so shortened that it could not sever the vile chains of paltry 
tvranny which confined this faithful apostle, nor open wide the 
guarded gates of his castle prison ? Surely there was still hope for 
faith which had been taught such lessons of undoubting trust in 
God. Nor were they thoughtless of the firm support and high 
consolations which their experience afforded. In prayer intense 
and unceasing, they poured out their souls in sympathetic grief 
and supplication, for the relief of their great elder brother from his 
deadly peril ; and in sorrowful entreaty the whole church contin- 
ued day and night, for the safety of Peter. 

Castle Antonia. — For Josephus's account of the position and erection of this work, 
see my note on page 95, (sec. 8.) There has been much speculation about the place 
of the prison to which Peter was committed. The-sacred text (Acts xii. 10,) makes 
it plain that it was without the city itself, since after leaving the prison it was still 
necessary to enter the city by " the iron gate." Walch, Kuinoel and Bloomfield 
adopt the view that it was in one of the towers or castles that fortified the walls. 
Wolf and others object to the view that it was without the walls ; because, as Wolf 
says, it was not customary to have public prisons outside of the cities, since the pris- 
oners might in that case be sometimes rescued by a bold assault from some hardy 
band of comrades, &c. But this objection is worth nothing against castle Antonia, 
which, though it stood entirely separated from the rest of the city, was vastly strong, 
and by its position as well as fortification, impregnable to any common force ; — 
a circumstance which would at once suggest and recommend it as a secure place for 
one who, like Peter, had escaped once from the common prison. There was always 
a Roman garrison in Antonia. (Jos. War, V. v. 8.) 

In the steady contemplation of the nearness of his bloody doom, 
the great apostle remained throughout the passover, shut off from 
all the consolations of fraternal sympathy, and awaiting the end 
of the few hours which were still allotted by the religious scru- 
ples of his mighty sovran. In his high and towering prison in 
Castle Antonia, parted only by a deep, broad rift in the precipitous 
rocks, from the great terraces of the temple itself, from whose 
thronged courts now rung the thanksgiving songs of a rejoicing 
nation, he heard them, sending up in thousands of voices the 
praise of their fathers' God, who still remembered Israel in mercy, 
renewing their ancient glories under the bright and peaceful do- 
minion of their new-crowned king. And with the anthems of 



Peter's apostleship. 195 

praise to God which sounded along the courts and porches of the 
temple, were no doubt heard, too, the thanks of many a grateful 
Hebrew for the goodness of the generous king, who had pledged 
his royal word to complete the noble plan of that holy pile, as 
suited the splendid conceptions of the founder. And this was 
the king whose decree had doomed that lonely and desolate pris- 
oner in the castle, to a bloody and shameful death, — as a crown- 
ing offering at the close of the great festival ; and how few among 
that vast throng, before whose eyes he was to yield his life, would 
repine at the sentence that dealt exterminating vengeance on the 
obstinately heretical preacher of the crucified Nazarene's faith ! 
Well might such dark visions of threatening ruin appal a heart 
whose enthusiasm had caught its flame from the unholy fires of 
worldly ambition, or devoted its energies to the low purpose of 
human ascendency. And truly sad would have been the lonely 
thoughts of this very apostle, if this doom had found him in the 
spirit which first moved him to devote himself to the cause which 
now required the sacrifice of life. But higher hopes and feelings 
had inspired his devoted exertions for ten years, and higher far, 
the consolations which now sustained him in his friendless deso- 
lation. This very fate, he had long been accustomed to regard 
as the earthly meed of his labors ; and he had too often been 
threatened with it, to be overwhelmed by its near prospect. Vain, 
then, were all solemn details of that awful sentence, to strike ter- 
ror into his fixed soul, — vain the dark sureties of the high, steep 
rock, the massive, lofty walls, the iron gates, the ever-watchful 
Roman guards, the fetters and manacles, to control or check the 

^'Eternal spirit of the chainless mind! — 
Brightest in dungeons, Liberty! thou art, 
For there thy habitation is the heart." 

Thus sublimely calm, sat Peter in his prison, waiting for death. 
Day after day, all day long, the joyous feast went on beneath him :— 
the offering, the prayer and the hymn varying the mighty course, 
from the earliest morning supplication to the great evening sacri- 
fice. Up rolled the glorious symphony of the Levites' thousand 
horns, and the choral harmony of their chanting voices, — up 
rolled the clouds of precious incense to the skiey throne of Isra- 
el's God, — and with this music and fragrance, up rolled the pray- 
ers of Israel's worshiping children ; but though the glorious 
sound and odor fell delightfully on the senses of the lonely cap- 
tive, as they passed upwards by his high prison -tower, no voice 



196 peter's apojstleship. 

of mercy came from below, to cheer him in his desolation. Bat 
from above, from the heaven to which all these prayer-bearing 
rloods of incense and harmony ascended, came down divine con- 
solation and miraculous delivery to this poor, despised prisoner, 
with a power and a witness that not all the solemn pomp of the 
passover ceremony could summon in reply to its costly offerings. 
The feeble band of sorrowing Nazarenes, from their little cham- 
ber, were lifting unceasing voices of supplication for their brother, 
in his desperate prospects, which entered with his solitary prayer 
into the ears of the God of Hosts, while the ostentatious worship 
of king Agrippa and his reverend supporters, only brought back 
shame and woful ruin on their impious supplications for the di- 
vine sanction to their bloody plans of persecution. At last the 
solermi passover-rites of u the last great day of the feast" were 
ended ; — the sacrifice, the incense and the song, rose no more from 
the sanctuary, — the fires on the altars went out, the hum and the 
roar of worshiping voices was hushed, and the departing throngs 
poured through the " eternal" and the " beautiful" gates, till 
at last the courts and porches of the temple were empty through 
all their vast extent, and hushed in a silence, deep as the ruinous 
oblivion to which the voice of their God had doomed them shortly 
to pass ; and all was still, save where the footfall of the passing 
priest echoed along the empty colonnades, as he hurried over the 
vast pavements into the dormitories of the inner temple ; or where 
the mighty gates thundered awfully as they swung heavily to- 
gether under the strong hands of the weary Levites, and sent 
their long reverberations among the walls. Even these closing 
sounds soon ceased also ; the Levite watchmen took their stand 
on the towers of the temple, and paced their nightly rounds along 
the flat roofs, guarding with careful eyes their holy shrine, lest 
the impious should, under cover of night, again profane it, (as the 
Samaritans had secretly done a few years before.) And on the 
neighboring castle of Antonia, the Roman garrison, too, had set 
their nightly watch, and the iron warriors slumbered, each in his 
turn, till the round of duty should summon him to relieve guard. 
Within the dungeon keep of the castle, was still safely held the 
weighty trust that was to be answered for, on peril of life ; and 
all arrangements were made which so great a responsibility seem- 
ed to require. The prisoner already somewhat notorious for ma- 
king unaccountable escapes from guarded dungeons, was secured 
with a particularity, quite complimentary to his dexterity as a 



peter's apostleship. 197 

jail-breaker. The quaternion on duty was divided into two por- 
tions ; each half being so disposed and posted as to effect the most 
complete supervision of which the place was capable, — two men 
keeping watch outside of the well-bolted door of the cell, and two 
within, who, not limited to the charge of merely keeping their eyes 
on the prisoner, had him fastened to their bodies, by a chain on 
each side. In this neighborly proximity to his rough compan- 
ions, Peter was in the habit of passing the night ; but in the day- 
time was freed from one of these chains, remaining attached to 
only one soldier. (This arrangement was in accordance with the 
standard mode of guarding important state-prisoners among the 
Romans.) Matters being thus accommodated, and the watch be- 
ing set for the next three hours, Peter's two fast companions, find- 
ing him but indifferent company, no doubt, notwithstanding his 
sociable position, soon grew quite dull in the very tame employ- 
ment of seeing that he did not run away with them; for as to get- 
ting away from them, the idea could have no place at all in the 
supposition. These sturdy old veterans had probably, though 
Gentiles, conformed so far to Judaical rituals as to share in the 
comfortable festivities of this great religious occasion, and could 
not have suffered any heathenish prejudices to prevent them from 
a hearty participation in the joyous draughts of the wine, which 
as usual did its part to enliven the hearts and countenances of all 
those who passed the feast-day in Jerusalem. The passover 
coming so many months after the vintage too, the fermentation of 
a long season must have considerably energized " the pure juice 
of the grape," so that its exhilarant and narcotic powers could 
have been by no means feeble ; and if the change thus wrought 
by time and its own inherent, powers, at all corresponds to that 
which takes places in cider in this country under the same cir- 
cumstances, the latter power must have so far predominated, as 
to leave them rather below than above the ordinary standard of 
vivacity, and induce that sort of apathetic indifference to conse- 
quences, which is far from appropriate in a soldier on duty over 
an important trust. Be that as it may, Peter's two room-mates 
soon gave themselves quietly up to slumber. If any scruple arose 
in their heavy heads as to the risk they ran in case of his escape, 
that was soon soothed by the consideration of the vast number of 
impassable securities upon the prisoner. They might well reason 
with themselves, " If this sharp Galilean can manage to break 
his chains without waking us, and burst open this stout door in 

26 



198 peter's apostleship. 

spite of bars, without rousing the sentinels who are posted against 
it on the outside, and make his way unseen and unchecked through 
all the gates and guards of Castle Antonia— why, let him. But 
there's no use in our losing a night's rest by any uneasiness about 
such a chance," So stretching themselves out, they soon fell into 
a sound sleep, none the less pleasant for their lying in such close 
quarters; for it is natural to imagine, that in a chill y March night 
in Jerusalem, stowing three in a bed was no uncomfortable ar- 
rangement. Circumstanced as he was, Peter had nothing to do 
bat conform to their example, for the nature of his attachment to 
them was such, that he had no room for the indulgence of his 
own fancies about his position ; and he also lay down to repose. 
He slept. The sickening and feverish confinement of his close 
dungeon had not yet so broken his firm and vigorous frame, nor 
so drained its energies, as to hinder the placid enjoyment of re- 
pose ; nor did the certainty of a cruel and shameful death, to 
which he was within a few hours to be dragged, before the eyes 
of a scoffing rabble, move his high spirit from its self-posses- 
sion : — 

" And still he slumbered 
While in "decree, his hours" were numbered." 

He slept. And from that dark prison-bed what visions could be- 
guile his slumbering thoughts '!- Did fancy bear them back 
against the tide of time, to the humble, peaceful home of his 
early days, — to the varied scenes of the lake whereon he loved 
to dwell, and along whose changeful waters he had learned so 
many lessons of immortal faith and imtrembling hope in his 
Lord? Amid the stormy roar of its dark waters, the voice of 
that Lord once called him to tempt the raging deep with his 
steady foot, and when his feeble faith, before untried, failed him 
in the terrors of the effort, His supporting hand recalled him to 
strength and safety. And had that lesson of faith and hope been 
so poorly learned, that in this dark hour he could draw no conso- 
lation from such remembrances ? No. He could even now find 
that consolation, and he did. In the midst of this " sea of trou- 
bles," he felt the same mighty arm now upholding him, that bore 
him above the waters, "when the blue wave rolled nightly on 
deep Galilee." Again he had stood by those waters, swelling 
brightly in the fresh morning breeze, with his risen Lord beside 
him, and received the solemn commission, oft-renewed, to feed the 
flock that was so soon to lose the earthly presence of its great 



peter's apostleshjp. 199 

Shepherd. In the steady and dauntless execution of that part- 
ing commission, he had in the course of long years gone on in 
the face of death,—" feeding the lambs" of Christ's gathering, and 
calling vast numbers to the fold ; and for the faithful adherence to 
that command, he now sat waiting the fulfilment of the doom 
that was to cut him down in the midst of life and in the fullness 
of his vigor. Yet the nearness of this sad reward of his labors, 
seemingly offering so dreadful an interpretation of the mystical 
prophecy that accompanied that charge, moved him to no despe- 
ration or distress, and still he calmly slept, with as little agitation 
and dread as at the transfiguration, and at the agony of the cru- 
cifixion eve; nor did that compunction for heedless inattention, 
that then hung upon his slumbering senses, now disturb him in 
the least. It is really worth noticing, in justice to Peter, that his 
sleepiness, of which so many curious instances are presented in 
the sacred narrative, was not of the criminally selfish kind that 
might be supposed on a partial view. If he slept during his Mas- 
ter's prayers on Mount Hermon, and in Gethsemane, he slept too 
in his own condemned cell ; and if in his bodily infirmity lie had 
forgotten to watch and pray when death threatened his Lord, he 
was now equally indifferent to his own impending destruction. 
He was, evidently, a man of independent and regular habits. 
Brought up a hard-working man, he had all his life been accus- 
tomed to repose whenever he was at leisure, if he needed it ; and 
now too, though the " heathen might rage, and the people imagine 
a vain thing, - -though the kings of the earth set themselves, and 
the rulers took counsel together" against him, and doomed him to 
a cruel death, — in spite of all these, Peter would sleep when he 
was sleepy. Not the royal Agrippa could sleep sounder on his 
pavilioned couch of purple. In the calm confidence of one 
steadily fixed in a high course, and perfectly prepared for every 
and any result, the chained apostle gave himself coolly to his 
natural rest, without borrowing any trouble from the thought, that 
in the morning the bloody sword was to lay him in " the sleep 
that knows no earthly waking." So slept the Athenian sage, on 
the eve of his martyrdom to the cause of clearly and boldly 
spoken truth,— a sleep that so moved the wonder of his agoni- 
zing disciples, at the power of a good conscience and a practical 
philosophy to sustain the soul against the horrors of such dis- 
tress ; but a sleep not sounder nor sweeter than that of the poor 
Galilean outcast, who, though not knowing even the name of phi- 



200 peter's apostleship. 

losophy, had a consolation far higher, in the faith that his mar- 
tyred Lord had taught him in so many experimental instructions. 
That faith, learned by the painful conviction of his own weak- 
ness, and implanted in him by many a fall when over confident in 
his own strength, was now his stay and comfort so that he might 
say to his soul, " Rope thou in God, for I shall yet praise him, 
who is the help of my countenance and my God." Nor did that 
hope prove groundless. From him in whom he trusted, came a 
messenger of deliverance ; and from the depths of a danger the 
most appalling and threatening, he was soon brought, to serve 
that helping-God through many faithful years, feeding the flock 
till, in his old age, " another should gird him, and carry him 
whither he would not." He who had prayed for him in the reve- 
lation of Iiis peculiar glories on Mount Hermon, and had so highly 
consecrated him to the great cause, had yet greater things for him 
to do ; and to new works of love and glory he now called him, 
from the castle-prison of his royal persecutor. 

Ten years. — This piece of chronology is thus settled. Jesus Christ, according to 
all common calculation, was crucified as early as the twentieth year of the reign of 
Tiberius. Irenaeus maintains that it was in the fifteenth of that reign. Eusebius 
and Epiphaniiis fix it in the eighteenth, or, according to Petavius's explanation of 
their meaning, in the seventeenth of his actual reign. Tertullian, Julius Africanus, 
Jerome, and Augustin, put it in the sixteenth. Roger Bacon, Paulus Burgensis, and 
Tostatus, also support this date, on the ground of an astronomical calculation of the 
course of the moon, fixing the time when the passover must have occurred, so as to 
accord with the requirement of the Mosaic law, that it should be celebrated on a new 
moon. But Kepler has abundantly shown the fallacy of this calculation. Antony 
Pagus, also, though rejecting this astronomical basis, 'adheres to the opinion of Ter- 
tullian, Jerome, &c. Baronius fixes it in the nineteenth of Tiberius. Pearson, L. 
Cappel, Spauheiim and Witsius, with the majority of the moderns, in the twentieth 
of Tiberius. So that the unanimous result of all these great authorities, places it as 
early as tins last mentioned year. A full and highly satisfactory view of all these 
chronological points and opinions, is given by the deeply learned Antony Pagus, in 
his great" " Critica Historieo-Chronologica in Ann. Baronii." Saecul. I. Ann. Per 
Gr.-Rom. 55-25. IT 3—13. 

Now, from Josephus it is perfectly evident that Agrippa did not leave Rome until 
some lime after the beginning of the reign of Claudius, and it is probable not before 
the close of the first year. Counting backwards through the four years of Caligula, 
this makes five years after the death of Tiberius, and eight on the latest calculation 
from the death of Christ ; while according to the higher and earlier authority, it 
amounts to nine, ten, eleven, or to twelve years from the crucifixion to Agrippa's ar- 
rival in Judea. And moreover, it is not probable that the persecution referred to 
occurred immediatelv on his arrival. Indeed, from the close way in which Luke 
connects Agrippa's death with the preceding events, it would seem as if he would 
fix his "going down from Jerusalem 10 Caesaiea," and his death at the latter place, 
very soon after the escape of Peter. This of course being in the end of Claudius's 
third year, brings the events above, down to the eleventh or twelfth from the crucifix- 
ion, even according to the latest conjecture as to the date of that event. Probably,^ 
however, the connection of the two events was not as close as a common reading of 
the Acts would lead one to suppose. 

So also Lardner, in his Life of Peter, says, " The death of Herod Agrippa hap- 
pened before the end of that year," in which he escaped. (Lardner's Works 4to. 
Vol. III. p. 402, bottom.) 



peter's apostleship. 201 

Natalis Alexander fixes Peter's escape in the second year of Claudius, and the 
forty-fourth from Christ's birth, which is, according to his computation, the tenth 
from 'his death. (Hist. Eccles. Saec. I. Cap. vi.) 

^i chain on each side. — That this was a common mode of fastening such prisoners 
among ihe Romans, appears from the authorities referred to by Wolf, (Car. Phil, in 
Acts xii. 6,) Kuinoei and Rosenmueller, (quoting from Walch,) and Bloomneld, all 
in loc. 

Quaternion. — That is, a band of four. See Bloomneld in defense of my mode of 
disposing them about the prison,— also Rosenmueller, &c. Wolf quotes appositely 
from Polybius; but Kuinoei is richest of all in quotatiSns and illustrations. (Acts 
xii. 4, 5.) 

THE DELIVERANCE. 

Peter was now quietly sleeping between his two guards, when 
his rest was suddenly broken by a smart blow on the side, too en- 
ergetically given to be mistaken for an accidental knock from the 
elbow of one of his heavy bed-fellows. Rousing his senses, and 
opening his eyes, he was startled by a most remarkable light shi- 
ning throughout his dungeon, which his last waking glance had 
left in utter darkness. In this unaccountable illumination, he 
saw standing before him and bending over him, a form in which 
he could recognize only the divine messenger of deliverance. 
The shock of such a surprise must have been overwhelming ;■ — 
to be waked from a sound sleep by an appearance so utterly 
unearthly, might have struck horror into the stoutest heart ; 
but Peter seems to have suffered no such emotion to hinder his 
attendance to the heavenly call. The apparition, before he could 
exercise thought enough to sit up of himself, had raised him up 
from his bed, and that without the slightest alarm to his still 
slumbering keepers, — for " immediately the chains fell from his 
hands," — a motion which by the rattling of the falling irons 
should have aroused the sleepers if any sound could have im- 
pressed their senses. The impulse of the now unmanacled cap- 
tive might have been to spring forth his dungeon without the 
slightest delay, but his deliverer's next command forbade any such 
unnecessary haste. His first words were, "Gird thyself; and tie 
on thy sandals." Before laying himself down, he had, as usual, 
thrown off his outer garments and loosened his girdle, so that his 
under dress need not so much confine him in sleep as to prevent 
that perfect relaxation which is necessary for comfortable repose. 
Just as now-a-days, a man in taking up such a lodging as often 
falls to a traveler's lot, will seldom do more than pull off his 
coat and boots, as Peter did, and perhaps unbutton his waist-band 
and suspenders, so that on a sudden alarm from his rest, the first 
direction would very properly be, to " gird himself," (button his 



£02 PETEB's APOSTLESHIF. 

trowsers,) "and tie on his sandals," (put on his shoes or boots.) 
The next direction given to Peter, also, " Cast thy garment about 
thee," (put on thy coat,) would be equally appropriate. The 
meaning of all this particularity and deliberation was, no doubt, 
that there was no need whatever of hurry or slyness about the 
escape. It was not to be considered a mere smart trick of jail- 
breaking, by which Peter was to crawl out of his dungeon in 
such a hurry as to leave his coat and shoes behind him, but a 
truly miraculous providence insuring his deliverance with a com- 
pleteness and certainty that allowed him to take every thing that 
belonged to him. Having now perfectly accoutred himself in his 
ordinary style, Peter immediately obeyed tbe next order of his de- 
liverer, — u Follow me." Leaving his two bed-fellows and room- 
mates sleeping hard, without tbe slightest idea of the evacu- 
ation of the premises which was so deliberately going on, to 
their great detriment, Peter now passed out through tbe open 
door, following the divine messenger in a state of mind alto- 
gether indescribable, but still with just sense enough to obey 
the directions which thus led him on to blissful freedom. The 
whole scene bore so perfectly the character of one of those en- 
chanting dreams of liberty with which painful hope often cheats 
the willing senses of the poor captive in slumber, that he might 
well and wisely doubt the reality of an appearance so tempting, 
and which his wishes would so readily suggest to his forgetful 
spirit. But passing on with his conductor, he moved between the 
sentinels posted at the doors, who were also equally unaware of 
the movement going on so boldly under their noses, or rather over 
them, for they, too, were faster bound in slumber than their pris- 
oner had been in his chains ; and he now stepped over their out- 
stretched bodies as they lay before the entrances. These soldiers, 
too, evidently looked upon their duty as a sort of sinecure, ration- 
ally concluding that their two stout comrades on the inside were 
rather more than a match for the fettered and manacled captive, 
and that if he should be at all obstreperous, or even uneasy, the 
noise would soon enough awake them from their nap. And thus 
excessive precaution is very apt to overshoot itself, each part of 
the arrangement relying too much on the security of all the rest. 
The two passengers soon reached the great iron gate of the cas- 
tle, through which they must pass in order to enter the city. But 
all the seeming difficulties of this passage vanished as soon as 
they approached it. The gate swung its enormous mass of metal 



Peter's apostleship. 203 

self-moving through the air, and the half-entranced Peter went on 
beneath the vacant portal, and now stood without the castle, once 
more a tree man in the fresh, pure air. The difficulties and dan- 
gers were not all over yet, however. Daring all the great feast- 
days, when large assemblies of people were gathered at Jerusa- 
lem from various quarters, to guard against the danger of riots 
and insurrection in these motley throngs, — the armed Roman 
force on duty, as Josephus relates, was doubled and tripled, oc- 
cupying several new posts around the temple, and, as the same 
historian particularly mentions, on the approaches of castle An- 
tonia, where its foundations descended towards the terraces of the 
temple, and gave access to the colonnades of the temple. On all 
these places the guard must have been under arms during this 
passover, and even at night the sentries would be stationed at all 
the important posts, as a reasonable security against the numerous 
strangers of a dubious character, who now thronged the city 
throughout. Yet all these peculiar precautions, which, at this 
time, presented so many additional difficulties to the escaping 
apostle, hindered him not in the least. Entering the city, he fol- 
lowed the footsteps of his blessed guide, unchecked, till they had 
passed on through the first street, when all at once, without sign 
or word of farewell, the mysterious deliverer vanished, leaving Pe- 
ter alone in the silent city, but free and safe. Then flashed upon 
his mind the conviction of the true character of the apparition. 
The departure of his guide leaving him to seek his own way, 
his senses were, by the necessity of this self-direction, recalled 
from the state of stupefaction, in which he had mechanically fol- 
lowed on from the prison. With the first burst of reflection, he 
broke out in the exclamation, " Now I know of a truth, that the 
Lord has sent forth his messenger, and has rescued me out of the 
hand of Herod, in spite of all the expectation of the Jewish peo- 
ple." Refreshed and encouraged by this impression, he now used 
his thoroughly awakened senses to find his exact situation, and 
after looking about him, he made his way through the dark streets 
to a place where he knew he should find those whose despairing 
hearts would be inexpressibly rejoiced by the news of his deliv- 
erance. This was the house of Mary, the mother of John Mark, 
where the disciples were accustomed to assemble. Going up to 
the gate-way, he rapped on the door, and at once aroused those 
within ; for in their sleepless distress ibr the imprisoned apostle, 
several of the brethren had given up all thoughts of sleep, and, 



204 Peter's apostleship. 

as Peter had suspected, were now watching in prayer within this 
house. The noise of a visitant at this unseasonable hour of the 
night, immediately brought to the door a lively damsel, named 
Rhoda ; who, according to the Jewish custom of employing fe- 
males in this capacity, acted as portress of the mansion of Mary. 
Prudently requiring some account of the person who made this 
late call, before she opened the door of the persecuted Christians 
to an unknown and perhaps an ill-disposed character, she was 
struck with almost frantic joy at hearing the well-known voice of 
the much mourned Peter, craving admittance. In the highth of 
her thoughtless gladness, she ran off at once to make known the 
delightful fact to the disciples in the house, without even seeming 
to think of the desirableness of admitting the apostle, perhaps be- 
cause she very naturally wanted to tell such pleasant news first 
herself. Bursting into the room where the disciples were at pray- 
er for their lamented leader, whom they supposed to be then fast 
bound for death in the dungeon of Antonia, she communicated 
the joyful fact, that " Peter was before the gate." A declaration 
so extravagantly improbable, at once suggested the idea of her 
having lost her wits through her affectionate sorrow for the suf- 
ferings and anticipated death of the great apostle, and they there- 
fore replied, "Thou art crazy." Rhoda, somewhat excited by 
such a provoking expression of incredulity, loudly repeated her 
slighted piece of good news, and so gravely maintained the truth 
of it, that some of the more superstitious at last began to think 
there must be something in it, and seriously suggested, that h 
must be a supernatural messenger come to give them notice of his 
certain doom, — "It is his guardian angel." Peter, however, was 
all this while standing outside during this grave debate about his 
real entity, and shivering with the cold of a chilly March night, 
grew quite impatient at the girl's inconsiderate folly, and knocked 
away with might and main, making a noise of most unspiritual 
character, till at last the disciples determined to cut short the de- 
bate by au actual observation ; so opening the door to the shiver- 
ing apostle, the light brought his material existence to a certainty 
beyond all doubt. Their amazement and joy was bursting forth 
with a vivacity which quite made np for their previous incredu- 
lity ; when the apostle, making a hushing sign with his hand. 
— and with a reasonable fear, too, no doubt, that their obstrep- 
erous congratulations might be heard in other houses around, 
so as to alarm the neighbors and bring out some spiteful 



peter's apostleship. 205 

Jews, who would procure his detection and recapture, — hav- 
ing obtained silence, went on to give them a full account of 
his being brought out of prison by the Lord, and after finishing 
his wonderful story, said to them, " Tell these things to James 
and the brethren.' 5 From this it would seem that the apostles 
were all somewhere else, probably having found that a temporary 
concealment was expedient for their safety, but were still not 
far from the city. His own personal danger was of so immi- 
nent a character, however, that Jerusalem could not be a safe 
place for him during the search that would be immediately in- 
stituted after him by his disappointed and enraged persecutors. 
It was quite worth while, therefore, for him to use the remaining 
darkness of the night to complete his escape ; and without stay- 
ing to enjoy their outflowing sympathies, he bade them a hasty 
farewell, and, as the historian briefly says, went to another 
place. Where this " other place" was, he does not pretend to 
tell or know, and the only certain inference to be drawn from the 
circumstance is, that it was beyond the reach or knowledge of the 
mighty and far-ruling king, who had taken such particular pains 
to secure Peter's death. The probabilities as to the real place of 
his retirement will, however, be given, as soon as the sequel of 
events, in Jerusalem has been narrated, as far as concerns the dis- 
covery of his escape. 

Bright light. — Some commentators have attempted to make out an explanation of 
this phenomenon, by referring the whole affair to the effects of a sudden flash and 
stroke of lightning, falling on the castle, and striking all the keepers senseless, — melt- 
ing Peter's chains, and illuminating the place, so that Peter, unhurt amid the general 
crash, saw this opportunity for escaping, ,and stepping over their prostrate bodies, 
made his way but of the prison, and was out of sight before they came to. The most 
important objection to this ingenious speculation is, that it directly contradicts every 
verse in Luke's account of the escape, as well as the general spirit of the narrative. 
Another weighty reason is, that the whole series of natural causes and effects, pro- 
posed as a substitute for the simple meaning, is brought together in such forced and 
uncommon coincidences, as to require a much greater effort of faith and credulity for 
its belief, than the miraculous view, which it quite transcends in incredibility. The 
introduction of explanations of miracles by natural phenomena, is justifiable only so 
far as these may illustrate the accompaniments of the event, by showing the mode in 
which those things which are actually mentioned as physical results, operated in pro- 
ducing the impressions described. Thus, when thunder and lightning are mentioned 
in connection with miraculous events, they are to be considered as real electrical dis- 
charges, made to accompany and manifest the presence of God ; and where lambent 
flames are described as appearing in a storm, they, like the corpos santos, are plainly 
also results of electrical discharges. So too, when mighty winds are mentioned, they 
are most honestly taken to be real winds, and not deceptive sounds or impressions ; 
and when a cloud is mentioned, it is. but fair to consider it a real cloud, made up, 
like all other clouds, of vapor, and not a mere non-entity, or a delusion existing only 
in the minds of those who are mentioned as beholding it. But where nothing of this 
kind is spoken of, and where a distinct personal presence is plainly declared, the at- 
tempt to substitute a physical accident for such an apparition, is a direct attack on the 
honesty of the statement. Such attempts, too, are devoid of the benefits of such illus- 

27 



206 jpeter's apostleship. 

trations as I have alluded to as desirable ; they bring in a new set of difficulties with 
them, without removing any of those previously obstructing the interpretation of the 
facts. In this case, the only circumstance which could be reasonably made to agree 
with the idea of lightning, is the mention of the bright light; while throughout the 
whole account, the presence of a supernaturally mysterious person, acting and speak- 
ing, is perfectly unquestionable. The violation of all probability, shown in this 
forced explanation, will serve as a fair instance of the mode in which many modern 
German critics are in the habit of distorting the simple, manifest sense of the sacred 
writers, for the sake of dispensing with all supernatural occurrences. (See Kuinoel 
for an enlarged view and discussion of this opinion. Other views of the nature of 
the phenomenon are also given by him, and by Rosenmueller, on Acts xii. 7.) 

Morning dawned at last upon the towers and temple-columns 
of the Holy City. On the gold-sheeted roofs and snowy-pillared 
colonnades of the house of God, the sunlight poured with a splen- 
dor hardly more glorious than the insupportable brilliancy that 
was sent back from their dazzling surfaces^ streaming like a new 
morning upon the objects around, whose nearer sides would oth- 
erwise have been left in shade by the eastern rays. Castle Anto- 
nia shared in this general illumination, and at the first blaze of 
sunrise, the order of Roman service announced the moment for 
relieving guard. The bustle of the movement of the new sen- 
tries towards their stands, must at last have reached the ears of 
Peter's forsaken companions. Their first waking thoughts would 
of course be on their responsible charge, and they now became for 
the first time aware of the important deficiency. In vain did their 
heavy eyes, at first winking with sleepiness, but now wide open 
with amazement, search the dim vacancy for their eloped bed-fel- 
low. The most inquisitive glance fell only on the blank space 
between them, scarcely blanker than the forlorn visages of the 
poor keepers, who saw in this disappearance the seal of their cer- 
tain death, for having let the prisoner escape. But they had not 
much time to consider their misfortune, or condole upon it ; for 
the change of sentries now brought to the door the quaternion 
whose turn on duty came next. With a miserable grace did the 
unhappy occupants of the cell show themselves at the open door, 
with the empty chains and fetters dangling at their sides, from 
which their late companion had so curiously slipped. Most un- 
comfortable must have been the aspect of things to the two senti- 
nels who had been keeping their steady watch outside of the 
door, and who shared equally with the inside keepers, in the un- 
desirable responsibilities of this accident. There stood their com- 
rades with the useless chains displayed in their original attach- 
ments ; but, amazing ! what in the world had they done with the 
prisoner? The ludicrous distress and commotion resulting from this 



peter's apostleship. 207 

unpleasant revelation, was evidently well appreciated even by the 
sacred historian, whose brief but pithy expression is not without 
a latent comic force. " There was no small stir among the sol- 
diers to know what was become of Peter." A general search into 
all the holes and corners of the dungeon, of course, ensued ; and 
the castle was no doubt ransacked from top to bottom for the run- 
away, whose escape from its massive gates seemed still impossible. 
But not even his cloak and sandals, which he had laid beside him 
at the last change of guards, — not a shred, not a thread had been 
left to hint at the mode of his abstraction. Yet this was so bad a 
story for the ears of the royal Agrippa, that it would not do to 
give up the search while any chance whatever remained. But 
all rummaging was perfectly fruitless ; and with sorrowful hearts, 
they now went with their report to the vindictive king, to ac- 
knowledge that most unpardonable crime in Roman soldiers, — to 
have slept on their posts, so that a prisoner of state had escaped 
on the eve of execution. 

Baronius, (Ann. Ecc. 44, § 8,) speaking of Peter's escape from his chains, favors 
us with a solemn statement of the important and interesting circumstance, deriving 
the proofs from Metaphrastes, (that prince of papistical liars, and grand source of 
Romish apostolical fables,) that these very chains of Peter are still preserved at Rome, 
among other venerable relics of equal authenticity ; having been faithfully preserved, 
and at last found after the lapse of four hundred years. The veritable history of this 
miraculous preservation, as given by the inventive Metaphrastes, is, that the said 
chains happened to fall into the hands of one of Agrippa's servants who was a be- 
liever in Christ, and so were handed down for four centuries, and at last brought to 
light. It is lamentable that the list of the various persons through whose hands they 
passed, is not given, though second in importance only to the authentic record of the 
papal succession. This impudent and paltry falsehood will serve as a fair speci- 
men of a vast quantity of such stuff, which litters up the pages of even the sober 
ecclesiastical histories of many papistical writers. The only wonderful thing to me 
about this story is, that Cave has not given it a place in his Lives of the Apostles, 
which are made up with so great a portion of similar trash. 

Baronius, in connection with this passage, suggests the castle of Antonia as the 
most probable place of Peter's confinement. " Juxta templum fortasse in ea munitis- 
sima turri quae dicebatur Antonia." (Bar. Annal. Ecc. A. C. 44, § 5.) A conjecture 
which certainly adds some weight to my own supposition to that effect ; although I 
did not discover the coincidence in time to mention it in my note on page 194. 

Meanwhile, with the early day, up rose the royal Agrippa from 
his purple couch, to seize the first moment after the close of the 
passover for the consummation of the doom of the wretched Gal- 
ilean, who, by the royal decree, must now yield the life already 
too many days spared, out of delicate scruple about the inviolate 
purity of that holy week. Up rose also the saintly princes of the 
Judaic law, coming forth in their solemn trains and broad phylac- 
teries, to grace this most religious occasion with their reverend 
presence, out of respectful gratitude to their great sovran for his 



208 



PETER S APOSTLESHIP. 



considerate disposition to accord the sanction of his absolute sec- 
ular power to their religious sentence. Expectation stood on 
tiptoe for the comfortable spectacle of the streaming life-blood of 
this stubborn leader of the Nazarene heresy, and nothing was want- 
ing to the completion of the ceremony, but the criminal himself. 
That " desideratum, so much to be desired," was, however, not so 
easily supplied ; for the entrance of the delinquent sentinels now 
presented the jion-est-inventus return to the solemn summons for 
the body of their prisoner. Confusion thrice confounded now fell 
on the faces that were just shining with anticipated triumph over 
their hated foe, while secret, scornful joy illuminated the counte- 
nances of the oppressed friends of Jesus. But on the devoted 
minions of the baffled king, did his disappointed vengeance fall 
most cruelly ; in his paroxysm of vexation, and for an event wholly 
beyond their control they now suffered an undeserved death ; 
making so tragical a catastrophe to a story otherwise decidedly 
comical, that the reader can only comfort himself with the belief 
that they were a set of insolent reprobates who had insulted the 
distresses of their frequent victims, and would have rejoiced in 
the bloody execution of the apostle. 

King Herod Agrippa, after this miserable failure in his attempt 
to cc please the Jews," does not seem to have made a very long 
stay in Jerusalem. Before his departure, however, to secure his 
own solid glory and his kingdom's safety, as well as the favor of 
his subjects, he not only continued the repairs of the temple, but 
instituted such improvements in the fortifications of the city, as, if 
ever completed, would have made it utterly impregnable even to 
a Roman force ; so that the emperor's jealousy soon compelled 
him to abandon this work ; and soon after he left Jerusalem, and 
went down to Caesarea Augusta, on the sea-coast, long the seat 
of government of Palestine, and a more agreeable place for the 
operations of a Gentile court and administration, (for such Agrip- 
pa's must have been from his Roman residence,) than the punc- 
tilious religious capital of Judea. But he was not allowed to 
remain much longer on the earth, to hinder the progress of the 
truth, by acts of tyranny in subservience to the base purposes of 
winning the favor of his more powerful subjects. The hand of 
God was laid destroyingiy on him, in the midst of what seemed 
the full fruition of that popular adulation for which he had lived.— 
in which he now died. Arrayed in a splendid and massy robe 
of polished silver, he seated himself on the throne erected by his 



209 

grandfather Herod, in the great Herodian theater at Caesarea, 
early in the morning of the day which was appointed for the cel- 
ebration of the great festal games, in honor of his royal patron, 
Claudius Caesar. On this occasion, to crown his kingly triumph, 
the" embassadors of the great commercial Phoenician cities, Tyre 
and Sidon, appeared before him to receive his condescending an- 
swer to their submissive requests for the re-establishment of a 
friendly intercourse between his dominions and theirs, — the agri- 
cultural products of the former being quite essential to the thriv- 
ing trade of the latter. Agrippa's reply was now publicly given 
to them, in which he graciously granted all their requests, in such 
a tone of eloquent benignity, that the admiring assembly expressed 
their approbation in shouts of praise, and at last some bold adula- 
tors catching the idea from the rays of dazzling light which flash- 
ed from the polished surfaces of his metallic robe, and threw 
a sort of glory over and around him, cried out, in impious ex- 
clamation, " It is the voice of a God, and not of a man." So little 
taste had the foolish king, that he did not check this pitiful out- 
break of silly blasphemy ; but sat swallowing it all, in the most un- 
moved self-satisfaction. But in the midst of this profane glory, he 
was called to an account for which it ill prepared him. In the 
expressive though figurative language of Luke, — "immediately 
the messenger of the Lord struck him, because he gave not the 
glory to God." The Jewish historian, too, in a similar manner 
assigns the reason. " The king did not rebuke the flatterers, nor 
refuse their impious adulation. Shortly after he was seized with 
a pain in the belly, dreadfully violent from the beginning. Turn- 
ing to his friends he said, ' Behold ! I, your god, am now appoint- 
ed to end my life, — -the decree of fate having at once falsified the 
voices that but just now were uttering lies about me ; and I, who 
have been called immortal by you, am now carried off dying.' 
While he uttered these words he was tortured by the increasing vi- 
olence of his pain, and was accordingly carried back to his palace. 
After five days of intense anguish, he died, in the fifty-fourth year 
of his age, and in the seventh of his reign ; having reigned four 
years under Cains Caesar, and three under Claudius." Thus 
ended the days of the conscience-stricken tyrant, while the glorious 
gospel cause which he had so vainly thought to check and over- 
throw, now, in the words of Luke, " grew and was multiplied •" 
the spiteful Jews having lost the right arm of their persecuting 
authority, in the death of their king, and all Palestine now pass- 



210 Peter's apostleship. 

ing again under the direct Roman rule, whose tolerant principles 
became once more the great protection of the followers of Jesus. 

Agrippa's death. — My combination of the two different accounts given by Luke and 
Josephus of this event, I believe accords with the best authorities; nor am I disposed, 
as Michaelis is, to reject Josephus's statement as irreconcilable with that in the Acts, 
though deficient in some particulars, which are given in the latter, and though not 
rightly apprehending fully the motives and immediate occasions of many things 
which he mentions. In the same way, too, several minor circumstances are omitted 
in Luke, which can be brought in from Josephus so as to give a much more vivid 
idea of the whole event, than can be learned from the Acts alone. (See Michaelis's 
introduction to the New Test., — on Luke. Also Wolf and Kuinoel.) 



Luke, in mentioning the departure of Peter from Jerusalem af- 
ter his escape from prison by night, merely says, " And going out, 
he went to another place" The vague, uncertain manner in 
which this circumstance is mentioned, seems to imply that the 
writer really knew nothing about this " other place." It was not 
a point essential to the integrity of the narrative, though interest- 
ing to all the readers of the history, since the most trilling partic- 
ulars about the chief apostle might well be supposed desirable to 
be known. But though if it had been known, it would have been 
well worth recording, it was too trifling a matter to deserve any 
investigation, if it had not been mentioned to Luke by those from 
whom he received the accounts which he gives of Peter ; and 
since he is uniformly particular in mentioning even these smaller 
details, when they fall in the way of his narrative, it is but fair to 
conclude that in this instance he would have satisfied the natural 
and reasonable curiosity of his readers, if he had had the means of 
doing so. There could have been no motive when he wrote, for 
concealing the fact, and he could have expressed the whole truth 
in as few words as he has given to show his own ignorance of the 
point. From the nature of the apostle's motives in departing 
from Jerusalem, it must have been at that time desirable to have 
his place of refuge known to as few as possible ; and the fact, at 
that time unknown, would, after the motive for concealment had 
disappeared, be of too little interest to be very carefully inquired 
after by those to whom it was not obvious. In this way it hap- 
pened, that this circumstance was never revealed to Luke, who 
not being among the disciples at Jerusalem, would not be in the 
way of readily hearing of it, and in writing the story would not 
think it worth inquiring for. But one thing seems morally certain ; 
if Peter had taken refuge in any important place or well known 
city, it must have been far more likely to have been afterwards a 



Peter's apostleship. 211 

fact sufficiently notorious to have come within the knowledge of 
his historian ; but as the most likely place for a secret retirement 
would have been some obscure region, this would increase the 
chances of its remaining subsequently unknown. This consider- 
ation is of some importance in settling a few negative facts in re- 
lation to various conjectures which have at different times been 
offered on the place of Peter's refuge. 

Among these, the most idle and unfounded is, that on leaving 
Jerusalem he went to Caesarea. What could have suggested this 
queer fancy to its author, it is hard to say ; but it certainly implies 
the most senseless folly in Peter, when seeking a hiding place 
from the persecution of king Herod Agrippa, to go directly to the 
capital of his dominions, where he might be expected to reside for 
the greater part of the time, and whither he actually did go, im- 
mediately after his disappointment about this very apostle. It was 
jumping out of the frying-pan into the fire, to go thus away from 
among* numerous friends who might have found a barely possible 
safety for him in Jerusalem, and to seek a refuge in Caesarea where 
there were but very few friends of the apostles, and where he 
would be in constant danger of discovery from the numerous min- 
ions of the king, who thronged all parts of that royal city, and 
from the great number of Greeks, Romans and Syrians, making 
up the majority of the population, who hated the very sight of a 
Jew, and would have taken vast pleasure in gratifying their spite, 
and at the same time gaining high favor with the king by hunting 
out and giving up to wrath an obscure heretic of that hated race. 
It would not have been at all accordant with the serpent- wisdom 
enjoined on the apostle, to have run his head thus into the lion's 
mouth, by seeking a quiet and safe dwelling-place beneath the 
very nose of his powerful persecutor. 

Another conjecture vastly less absurd, but still not highly prob- 
able, is, that Antioch was the " other place" to which Peter went 
from Jerusalem ; but an objection of great force against this, is 
that already alluded to above, in reference to the ineligibility of a 
great city as a place of concealment ; and in this instance is su- 
peradded the difficulty of his immediately making this long jour- 
ney over the whole extent of Agrippa's dominions, northward, at 
such a time, when the king's officers would be every where put on 
the alert for him, more particularly in the direction of his old home 
in Galilee, which would be in the nearest way to Antioch. His 
most politic movement, therefore, would be to take some shorter 



212 



PETERS APOSTLESHIP. 



course out of Palestine. Moreover, in this case, there is a partic- 
ular reason why Luke would have mentioned the name of Anti- 
och if that had been the place. What the proof of this reason is, 
can be best shown in his life ; but the bare statement of the fact 
may be sufficient for the present, — that he was himself a citizen 
of that place, and could not have been ignorant or negligent of the 
circumstance of this visit, if it had occurred. 

It has been suggested by others that the expression, " to another 
place," does not imply a departure from Jerusalem, but is perfectly 
reconcilable with the supposition that Peter remained concealed 
in some safe and unknown part of the city. This view would 
very unobjectionably accord with the vagueness of the passage, — 
since if merely another part of Jerusalem was meant, no name 
could be expected to describe it. But it would certainly seem like 
a presumptuous rashness in Peter, to risk in so idle a manner the 
freedom which he owed to a miraculous interposition ; for the cir- 
cumstance of such an interposition could not be intended to jus- 
tify him in dispensing with a single precaution which would be 
proper and necessary after an escape in any other mode. Such 
is not the course of divine dealings, whether miraculous or ordina- 
ry ; and in a religious as well as an economical view, the force 
and truth of Poor Richard's saying is undoubted, — ■" God helps 
them who help themselves ;" nor is his helping them any reason 
why they should cease to help themselves. Peter's natural im- 
pulse, as well as a considerate prudence, then, would lead him to 
immediate exertions to keep the freedom so wonderfully obtained, 
and such an impulse and such a consideration would at once 
teach him that the city was no place for him, at a time when the 
most desperately diligent search might be expected. For as soon 
as his escape was discovered, Luke says, that the king "sought 
most earnestly for him," and in a search thus characterized, in- 
spired too by the most furious rage at the disappointment, hardly 
a hole or corner of Jerusalem could have been left unransacked ; 
so that this preservation of the apostle from pursuers so determined, 
would have required a coninual series of miracles, fully as won- 
derful as that which effected his deliverance from castle Antonia. 
His most proper and reasonable course would then have been di- 
rectly eastward from Jerusalem, — a route which would give him 
the shortest exit from the territories of Herod Agrippa, leading him 
directly into Arabia, a region that was, in another great instance 
hereafter mentioned, a place of comfortable and undisturbed ref- 



213 

uge for a person similarly circumstanced. A journey of fifty or 
sixty miles through an unfrequented and lonely country, would 
put him entirely beyond pursuit ; and the character of the route 
would make it exceedingly difficult to trace his flight, as the na- 
ture of the country would facilitate his concealment, while its prox- 
imity to Jerusalem would make his return after the removal of the 
danger by the death of Agrippa, as easy as his flight thither in the 
first place. 

At Jerusalem. — This notion I find nowhere but in Lardner, who approves it, quoting 
Lenfant. [Lard. Hist of Apost. and Evang., Life of Peter.j 

Another series of papistical fables carries him on his supposed 
tour on the coast, beyond Caesarea, and, uniting two theories, 
makes him visit Antioch also ■ and finally extends his pilgrimage 
into the central and northern parts of Asia Minor. This fabulous 
legend, though different in its character from the preceding ac- 
counts, because it impudently attempts to pass off a bald invention 
as an authentic history, while those are only offered honestly as 
probable conjectures, yet may be worthy of a place here, because 
it is necessary in giving a complete view of all the stories which 
have been received, to present dishonest inventions as well as jus- 
tifiable speculations. The clearest fabulous account given of his 
journey thither, is, that parting from Jerusalem as above-men- 
tioned, he directed his way westwards toward the sea-coast of Pal- 
estine, first to Caesarea Stratonis, (or Augusta,) where he con- 
stituted one of the presbyters who attended him from Jerusalem, 
bishop of the church founded there by him on his visit ; — that 
leaving Caesarea he went northwards along the coast into Phoe- 
nicia, arriving at the city of Sidon ; — that there he performed 
many cures and also appointed a bishop ; next to Berytus, (now 
Beyroot,) in Syria, and there also appointed a bishop. Going on 
through Syria, along the coast of the Mediterranean, they bring 
him next, in his curiously detailed track, to Biblys, then to the 
Phoenician Tripoli, to Orthosia, to Antandros, to the island of 
Aradus, near the coast, to Balaenas, to Panta, to Laodicea, and at 
last to Antioch,— planting churches in all these hard-named towns 
on the way, and sowing bishops, as before, by handfulls. as well 
as performing vast quantities of miracles. The story of Peter's 
journey goes on to say, that after leaving Antioch he went into 
Cappadocia, and stayed some time in Tyana, a city of that prov- 
ince. Proceeding westward thence, he came to Ancyra, in Gal- 
atia, where he raised a dead person, baptized believers, and insti- 

28 



214 peter's apostleship, 

tated a church, over which he ordained a bishop. Thence north- 
ward, into Pontus, where he visited the cities of Sinope and Ama- 
sea, on the coast of the Euxine sea. Then turning eastward into 
Paphlagonia, stopped at Gangra and Claudiopolis ; next into Bi 
thynia, to the cities of Nicomedia and Nicaea ; and thence returned 
directly to Antioch, whence he shortly afterwards went to Jeru- 
salem. 

This ingenious piece of apostolic romance is due to the same veracious Metaphras- 
tes, above quoted. I have derived it from him through Caesar Baronius, who gives 
it in his Annales EcclesiasticL (44, § 10, 11.) The great annalist approves and adopts 
it, however, only as far as it describes the journey of Peter to Antioch ; and there he 
leaves the narrative of Metaphrastes, and instead of taking Peter on his long tour 
through Asia Minor and back to Jerusalem, as just described, carries him off upon a 
far different route, achieving the great journey westward, which accords with the 
view taken by the vast majority of the old ecclesiastical writers, and which is next 
given here. Metaphrastes also maintains this view, indeed, but supposes and invents 
all the events just narrated, as intermediate occurrences, between Peter's escape and 
his great journey, and begins the account of this latter, after his return from his 
Asian circuit. 

To connect all this long pilgrimage with the story given in the sacred record, the 
sage Baronius makes the ingenious suggestion, that this was the occult reason why 
Agrippa was wroth with those of Tyre and Sidon ; namely, that Peter had gone 
through their country when a fugitive from the royal vengeance, and had been favor- 
ably received by the Tyrians and Sidonians, who should have seized him as a runa- 
way from justice, and sent him back to Agrippa. This acute guess, he thinks, will 
show a reason also for the otherwise unaccountable fact, that Luke should mention 
this quarrel between Agrippa and those cities, in connection with the events of Pe- 
ter's escape and Agrippa's death. For the great cardinal does not seem to appreciate . 
the circumstance of its close relation to the latter event, in presenting the occasion of 
the reconciliation between the king and the offending cities, on which the king made 
his speech to the people, and received the impious tribute of praise, which was fol- 
lowed by his death ; — the whole constituting a relation sufficiently close between the 
two events, to justify the connection in Luke. 

THE FIRST VISIT TO ROME. 

But the view of this passage iii Peter's history, which was long 
adopted universally by those who took the pains to ask about this 
" other place," mentioned by Luke, and the view which involves 
the most important relations to other far greater questions, is, that 
Rome was the chief apostle's refuge from the Agrippine persecu- 
tion, and that in the imperial city he now laid the deep founda- 
tions of the church universal. On this point some of the great- 
est champions of papistry have expended vast labor, to establish a 
circumstance so convenient for the support of the dogma of the 
divinely appointed supremacy of the Romish church, since the be- 
lief of this early visit of Peter would afford a very convenient ba- 
sis for the very early apostolical foundation of the Roman see. 
But though this notion of his refuge has received the support of 
a vast number of great names from the very early periods of Chris- 
tian literature, and though for a long period this view was con- 
sidered indubitable, from the sanction of ancient authorities, there 



P E T E E 5 S A P S T L E S H I P . 215 

is not one of the various conjectures offered which is so easily 
overthrown on examination, from the manner in which it is con- 
nected with other notions most palpably false and baseless. The 
old papistical notion was, that Peter at this time visited Rome, 
founded the church there, and presided over it, as bishop, twen- 
ty-Jive years, but occasionally visiting the east. As respects the 
minute details of this journey to Rome, the papist historians are 
by no means agreed, few of them having put any value upon the 
particulars of such an itinerary, until those periods when such 
fables were sought after by common readers with more avidity. 
But there is at least one hard-conscienced narrator, who under- 
takes to go over all the steps of the apostle on the road to the eter- 
nal city, and from his narrative are brought these circumstances. 
The companions assigned him by this romance, on his journey, 
were the evangelist Mark, Appollinaris, afterwards, as the story 
goes, appointed by him bishop of Ravenna, in Italy ; Martial, af- 
terwards a missionary in Gaul, and Rufus, bishop of Capua, in 
Italy. Pancratius, of Tauromenius, and Marcian, of Syracuse, in 
Sicily, had been sent on by Peter to that island, while he was yet 
staying at Antioch, but on his voyage he landed there and made 
them his companions also. His great route is said to have led 
him to Troy, on the northern part of the Asian coast of the Aege- 
an sea, whence they seem to have made him cross to the eastern 
port of Corinth. At this great city of Greece, they bring him in- 
to the company of Paul and Silas, who were sent thither, to be 
sure, on a mission, but evidently at a different time, a circumstance 
which, among many others, helps to show the bungling manner 
in which the story is made up. From Corinth they cany him 
next to Syracuse, as just mentioned. Thence to Neapolis, (Na- 
ples,) in Campania, where, as the monkish legend says, this chief 
of the apostles celebrated with his companions a mass, for the safe 
progress of his voyage to Italy. Having now reached Italy, he 
is made the subject of a new fable for the benefit of every city 
along the coast, and is accordingly said to have touched at Libur- 
num, (Livorno, Leghorn,) being driven thither by stress of weather, 
and thence to Pisa, near by, where he offered up another mass for 
his preservation, as is still maintained in local fables; but the 
general Romish legend does not so favor these places, but brings 
the apostle, without any more marine delay or difficulty, directly 
over land from Naples to Rome ; and on this route again, one lie 
suggesting another, a local superstition commemorates the veritable 



216 peter's apostleship. 

circumstances, that he made this land-journey from Naples to 
Rome, on foot ; and on the way stopped at the house of a Gali- 
lean countryman of his own, named Mark, in a town called Atina, 
of which the said Mark was afterwards made bishop. 

Respecting these minute accounts of Peter's stopping-places on this apocryphal 
journey, Baronius says, "Nobilia in iis remanserunt antiquitatis vestigia, sed tradi- 
tiones potius quam scriptura firmata." "There are in those places some noble re- 
mains of this ancient history, but rather traditions than well assured written accounts." 
The part of the route from Antioch to Sicily he takes on the authority of the imagin- 
ative Metaphrastes j but the rest is made up from different local superstitions of a 
very modern date, not one of which can be traced farther back than the time when 
every fable of this sort had a high pecuniary value to the inventors, in bringing 
crowds of money-giving pilgrims to the spot which had been hallowed by the foot- 
steps of the chief apostle. Even the devout Baronius, however, is obliged to confess 
at the end of this story, " Sed de rebus tarn antiquis et incertis, quid potissimum affir- 
mare debeamus r non satis constat." — " But as to matters so ancient and uncertain, it 
is not sufficiently well established what opinion we may most safely pronounce." 

As to the early part of the route, speaking of the account given by Metaphrastes of 
Peter's having on his way through Troy ordained Cornelius, the centurion, bishop 
of that place, Baronius objects to the truth of this statement, the assertion that Cor- 
nelius had been previously ordained bishop of Caesarea, where he was converted. 
A very valuable refutation of one fable by another as utterly unfounded. 

Respecting the causes of this great journey of the apostle to 
the capital of the world, the opinions even of papist writers are as 
various as they are about the route honored by his passage. Some 
suppose his motive to have been merely a desire for a refuge from 
the persecution of Agrippa ; — a most unlikely resort, however, for 
nothing could be more easy than his detection in passing over 
such a route, especially by sea, where every vessel could be so 
easily searched at the command of Agrippa, whose influence ex- 
tended far beyond his own territory, supported as he was, by the 
unbounded possession of the imperial Caesar's favor, which would 
also make the seizure of the fugitive within the great city itself, a 
very easy thing. Others, however, do not consider this journey 
as connected in any way with his flight from Agrippa, (for many 
suppose it to have been made after the death of that king,) and 
find the motive for such an effort in the vast importance of the 
field opened for his labors in the great capital of the world, where 
were so many strong holds of error to be assaulted, and from 
which an influence so wide and effectual might be exerted through 
numerous channels of communication to all parts of the world. 
Others have sought a reason of more definite and limited charac- 
ter, and with vast pains have invented and compiled a fable of 
most absurdly amusing character, to make an object for Peter's 
labors in the distant capital. The story which has the greatest 
number of supporters, is one connected with Simon Magus, men- 



PETERS APOSTLESHIP. 21? 

tioned in the sacred record, in the account of the labors of Philip 
in Samaria, and the visit of Peter and John to that place. The 
fable begins with the assertion that this magician had returned to 
his former tricks after his insincere conformity to the Christian 
faith, and had devoted himself with new energy to the easy work 
of popular deception, adding to his former evil motives, that of 
deadly spite against the faith to which he appeared so friendly, at 
the time when the sacred narrative speaks of him last. In order 
to find a field sufficiently ample for his enlarged plans, he went to 
Rome, and there, in the reign of Claudius Caesar, attained a vast 
renown by his magical tricks, so that he was even esteemed a 
god, and was even so pronounced by a solemn decree of the Ro- 
man senate, confirmed by Claudius himself, who was perfectly 
carried away with the delusion, which seems thus to have in- 
volved the highest and the lowest alike. The fable proceeds to 
introduce Peter on the scene, by the circumstance of his being 
called by a divine vision to go to Rome and war against this 
great impostor, thus advancing in his impious supremacy, who 
had already in Samaria been made to acknowledge the miracu- 
lous efficacy of the apostolic word. Peter thus brought to Rome 
by the hand of God, publicly preached abroad the doctrine of 
salvation, and meeting the arch-magician himself, with the same 
divine weapons whose efficacy he had before experienced, over- 
came him utterly, and drove him in confusion and disgrace from 
the city. Nor were the blessings that resulted to Rome from this 
visit of Peter, of a merely spiritual kind. So specially favored 
with the divine presence and blessing were all places where this 
great apostle happened to be, that even their temporal interests 
shared in the advantages of the divine influence that every where 
followed him. To this cause, therefore, are gravely referred by 
papistical commentators, the remarkable success which, according 
to heathen historians, attended the Roman arms in different parts 
of the world during the second year of Claudius, to which date 
this fabulous visit is unanimously referred by all who pretend to 
believe in its occurrence. 

Importance of the field of labor. — This is the view taken by Leo, (in serm. 1. in 
nat. apost. quoted by Baronius, Ann. 44. § 26.) " When the twelve apostles, after re- 
ceiving from the Holy Spirit the power of speaking all languages," (an assertion, by 
the way, no where found in the sacred record,) " had undertaken the labor of imbu- 
ing the world with the gospel, dividing its several portions among themselves ; the 
most blessed Peter, the chief of the apostolic order was appointed to the capital of 
the Roman empire, so that the light of truth which was revealed for the salvation of 
all nations, might from the very head, diffuse itself with the more power through the 



218 peter's apostleship. 

whole body of the world. For, what country had not some citizens in this city % Or 
what nation anywhere, could be ignorant of anything which Rome had been taught? 
Here were philosophical dogmas to be put down — vanities of worldly wisdom to be 
weakened — idol-worship to be overthrown," — &c. "To this city therefore, thou, 
most blessed apostle Peter ! didst not fear to come, and (sharing thy glory with the 
apostle Paul, there occupied with the arrangement of other churches,) didst enter 
that forest of raging beasts, and didst pass upon that ocean of boisterous depths, with 
more firmness than when thou walkedst on the sea. Nor didst thou fear Rome, the 
mistress of the world, though thou didst once, in the house of Caiaphas, dread the 
servant maid of the priest. Not because the power of Claudius, or the cruelty of 
Nero, were less dreadful than the judgment of Pilate, or the rage of the Jews; but be- 
cause the power of love now overcame the occasion of fear, since thy regard for the 
salvation of souls would not suffer thee to yield to terror. * * * The miracu- 
lous signs, gifts of grace, and trials of virtue, which had already been so multiplied 
to thee, now increased thy boldness. Already hadst thou taught those nations of the 
■circumcision who believed. Already hadst thou filled Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, 
Asia and Bithynia with the gospel; and now, without a doubt of the advance of the 
work, or of the certainty of thy own fate, thou didst plant the trophy of the cross of 
Christ upon the towers of Rome." Arnobius is also quoted by Baronius to similar 
effect. 

Simon Magus. — This fable has received a wonderfully wide circulation, and long 
maintained a place among the credible accounts of early Christian history, probably 
from the circumstance of its taking its origin from so early a source. Justin Martyr, 
who flourished from the year 140 and afterwards, in his apology for the Christian 
religion, addressed to the emperor Antoninus Pius, says, " Simon, a Samaritan, born 
in a village named GUthon, in the time of Claudius Caesar, was received as a god 
in your imperial city of Rome, and honored with a statue, like other gods, on ac- 
count of his magical powers there exhibited by the aid of demons; and this statue 
was set up in the river Tiber, between two bridges, and had this Latin inscrip- 
tion, Simoni deo sancto. Him too, all the Samaritans worship, and a few of other 
nations, acknowledging him as the highest god, (jrpwrov Seov.) They also worship a 
certain Helena, who at that time followed him about," &c. &c. &c. with more dirty 
.trash besides, than I can find room for. And in another passage of the same work, 
\he alludes to the same circumstances. " In your city, the mistress of the world, in 
the time of Claudius Caesar, Simon Magus struck the Roman senate and people 
with such admiration of himself, that he was ranked among the gods, and was honor- 
ed with a statue." Irenaeus, who flourished about the year 180, also gives this story 
with hardly any variation from Justin. Tertullian, about A. D. 200, repeats 
the same, with the addition of the circumstance, that not satisfied with the honors 
paid to himself, he caused the people to debase themselves still further, by paying di- 
vine honors to a woman called (by Tertullian) Larentina, who was exalted by them 
to a rank with the goddesses of the ancient mythology, though the good father gives 
her but a bad name. Eusebius, also, about A. D. 320, refers to the testimonies of Jus- 
tin and Irenaeus, and adds some strange particulars about a sect, existing in his time, 
the members of which were said to acknowledge this Simon as the author of their 
faith, whom they worshiped along with this woman Helena, falling prostrate before 
the pictures of both of them, with incense and sacrifices and libations to them, with 
other rites, unutterably and unwritably bad. (See Euseb. Ecc. Hist. II. 13.) 

In the three former writers, Justin, Irenaeus and Tertullian, this absurd story 
stands by itself, and has no connection with the life of Peter; but Eusebius goes on to 
commemorate the circumstance, previously unrecorded, that Peter went to Rome for 
the express purpose of putting down this blasphemous wretch, as specified above, in 
the text of my narrative, from this author. (Euseb. Hist. II. 14.) 

Now all this fine series of accounts, though seeming to bear such an overwhelming 
weight of testimony in favor of the truth and reality of Simon Magus's visit to 
Rome, is proved to be originally based on an absolute falsehood ; and the nature of 
this falsehood is thus exposed. In the year 1574, during the pontificate of Pope 
Gregory XIII., there was an excavation made for some indifferent purpose in Rome, 
on the very island in the Tiber, so particularly described by Justin, as lying in the 
center of the river between two bridges, each of which rested an abutment on it, and 
ran from it to the opposite shores. Jn the progress of this excavation, the workmen, 
as is very common in that vast city of buried ruins, turned up, among other remains 
of antiquity, the remnant of a statue with its pedestal, which had evidently once 



219 

stood erect upon the spot. Upon the pedestal was an inscription most distinctly legi- 
ble, in these words: Semoni sango deo fidio sacrum — Sex Pompeius s. p. f. col. mus- 

SIANtTS Q.U1NQ.UENNAL1S DECTIR. BIDENTALIS DONUM DED1T. (This Was in four tines, 

each line ending where the blank spaces are marked in the copy.) In order to un- 
derstand this sentence, it must be known, that the Romans, among the innumerable 
objects of worship in their complicated religion, had a peculiar set of deities which 
they called Semones. A Semo was a kind of inferior god, of an earthly character 
and office, so low as to unfit him for a place among the great gods of heaven, Jupi- 
ter, Juno, Apollo, &c, and was accordingly confined in his residence entirely to the 
earth; where the Semones received high honors and devout worship, and were 
commemorated in many places, both in city and country, by statues, before which 
the passer might pay his worship, if devoutly disposed. These statues were often of 
a votive character, erected by wealthy or distinguished persons for fancied aid, 
received from some one of these Semones, in some particular season of distress, or 
for general prosperity. This was evidently the object of the statue in question. Pri- 
apus, Hipporea, Vertumnus, and such minor gods were included under the general 
title of Semones; and among them was also ranked a Sabine divinity, named Sangus 
or Sanctis, who is, by some writers, considered as corresponding in character to the 
Hercules of the Greeks. Sangus or Sancus is often alluded to in the Roman clas- 
sics. Propertius (book 4) has a verse referring to him as a Sabine deity. " Sic 
Sancum Tatiae composuere Cures." Ovid also, " duaerebam Nonas Sanco fidio ne 
referrem." As to this providentially recovered remnant of antiquity, therefore, 
there can be no doubt that it was a votive monument, erected by Sextus Pompey to 
Sangus the Semo, for some reason not very clearly expressed. 
Baronius tells also that he had seen a stone similarly inscribed. " sango sancto 

SEMON. — DEO FIDIO SACRUM — DECURIO SACERDOTUM BIDENTALIUM — RECIPERATIS VECTIGALI- 

bus." That is, <! Sacred to Sangus, the holy Semo, the god Fidius, — a decury (com- 
pany of ten) of the priests of the Bidental sacrifices have raised this in giati- 
itude for their recovered incomes." Dionysius Halicarnassaeus is also quoted by 
Baronius as referring to the worship of the Semo, Sangus ; and from him and vari- 
ous other ancient writers, it appears that vows and sacrifices were offered to this San- 
gus, for a safe journey and happy return from a distance. 

From a consideration of all the circumstances of this remarkable discovery, and 
from the palpable evidence afforded by the inherent absurdity of the story told by 
Justin Martyr and his copyists, the conclusion is justifiable and irresistible/, that Jus- 
tin himself, being a native of Syria, and having read the story of Simon Magus in 
the Acts, where it is recorded that he was profoundly reverenced by the Samaritans, 
and was silenced and rebuked by Peter when he visited that place, — with all this story 
fresh in his mind, (for he was but a new convert to Christianity,) came to Rome, and 
going through that city, an ignorant foreigner, without any knowledge of the reli- 
gion, or superstitions, or deities, and with but an indifferent acquaintance with their 
language, came along this bridge over the Tiber to the island, where had been erect- 
ed this votive statue to Semo Sangus ; and looking at the inscription in the way that 
might be expected of one to whom the language and religion were strange, he was 
struck at once with the name Semon, as so much resembling the well-known eastern 
name Simon, and began speculating at once, about what person of that name could 
ever have come from the east to Rome, and there received the honors of a god. Jus- 
tin's Want of familiarity with the language of the Romans, would prevent his obtain- 
ing any satisfactory information on the subject from the passers-by ; and if he at- 
tempted to question them about it, he would be very apt to interpret their imperfect 
communications in such a way as suited the notion he had taken up. If he asked his 
Christian brethren about the matter, their very low character for general intelli- 
gence, the circumstance that those with whom he was most familiar, must have been 
of eastern origin, and as ignorant as he of the minute peculiarities of the Roman reli- 
gion, and their common disposition to wilfully pervert the truth, and invent fables for 
the sake of a good story connected with their own faith, (of which we have evidences 
vastly numerous, and sadly powerful in the multitude of such legends that have come 
down from the Christians of those times,) would all conspire to help the invention 
and completion of the foolish and unfounded notion, that this statue here erected 
Semoni Sanco Deo, was the same as Simoni Deo Sancto, that is, " to the holy god Si- 
mon;" and as it was always necessary to the introduction of a new god among those 
at Rome, that the Senate should pass a solemn act and decree to that effect, which 
should be confirmed by the approbation of the emperor, it would at once occur to his 



220 



PETER'S APOSTLESHIP. 



own imaginative mind, or to the inventions of his fabricating informers, that Simon 
must of course have received such a decree from the senate and Caesar. This ne- 
cessarily also implied vast renown, and extensive favor with all the Romans, which 
he must have acquired, to be sure, by his magical tricks, aided by the demoniac pow- 
ers; and so all the foolish particulars of the stor}^ would be made out as fast as want- 
ed. The paltry fable also appended to this by all the Fathers who give the former 
story, to the effect, that some woman closely connected with him, w T as worshiped 
along with him, variously named Helena, Selena and Larentina, has no doubt a sim- 
ilarly baseless origin ; but is harder to trace to its beginnings, because it was not con- 
nected with an assertion, capable of direct ocular, as well as historical, refutation, as 
that about Simon's statue most fortunately was. The second name, Selena, given by 
lrenaeus, is exactly the Greek word for the moon, which was often worshiped under 
its appropriate name; and this tale may have been caught up from some connection 
between such a ceremony and the w r ors r hip of some of the Semones, — all the elegant 
details of her life and character being invented to suit the fancies of the reverend 
fathers. The story, that she had followed Simon to Rome from the Phoenician ci- 
ties, Tyre and Sidon, suggests to my mind at this moment, that there may have been 
a connection between this and some old story of the importation of a piece of idolatry 
from that region, so famed for the worship of the 

" mooned Ashtaroth, 
Heaven's queen and mother both." 

But this trash is not worth the time and paper T am spending upon it, since the main 
part of the story, concerning Simon Magus as having ever been seen or heard of in 
Rome, by senate, prince or people, in the days of Claudius, is shown, beyond all rea- 
sonable question, to be utterly false, and based on a stupid blunder of Justin Martyr, 
who did not know Latin enough to tell the difference between sanco and sancto, nor 
between Semoni and Simoni. And after all, this is but a fair specimen of Justin Mar- 
tyr's usual blundering way, of which his few pages present other instances for the 
inquiring reader to stumble over and bewilder himself upon. Take, for example, 
the gross confusion of names and dates which he makes in a passage which acciden- 
tally meets my eye, on a page near that from which the above extract is taken. In 
attempting to give an account of the way in which the Hebrew Bible was first trans- 
lated into Greek, he says that Ptolemy, king of Egypt, sent to Herod, king of the 
Jews, for a copy of the Bible. But when or where does any history, sacred or pro- 
fane, give any account whatever of any Ptolemy, king of Egypt, who was cotempo- 
rary with either of the Herods'? The last of the Ptolemies was killed, while a boy, in 
the Egyptian war with Julius Caesar, before Herod had himself attained to manhood, 
or had the most distant thought of the throne of Palestine. The Ptolemy who is said 
to have procured the Greek translation of the Bible, however, lived about three hun- 
dred years before the first Herod. It is lamentable to think that such is the character 
of the earliest Christian father who has left works of any magnitude. Who can won- 
der that Apologies for the Christian religion, full of such gross blunders, should have 
failed to secure the belief, or move the attention of either of the Antonines, to whom 
they were addressed,— the Philosophic, or the Pious 1 Or that a writer who pretended 
to tell the w T isest of the Caesars, that in his imperial city, had been worshiped, from the 
days of Claudius, a miserable Samaritan impostor, who, an outcast from his own out- 
cast land, had in Rome, by a solemn senatorial and imperial decree, been exalted to the 
highest god-ship, and that the evidence of this fact was found in a statue which that 
emperor well knew to be dedicated to the most ancient deities of Etruscan origin, wor- 
shiped there ever since the days of Numa Pompilius, but which this Syrian Chris- 
tian had blunderingly supposed to commemorate a man who had never been heard 
of out of Samaria, except among Christians. And as for such martyrs, if there is 
any truth whatever in the story that his foolish head was cut off by the second An- 
toiiine, the only pity is, it was not done a little sooner, so as to have kept the Chris- 
tian world from the long belief of all this folly about an invention so idle, and saved 
me the trouble of exposing it. 

The fullest account ever given of this fable and all its progress, is found in the An- 
nates Ecclesiastici of Caesar Baronius, (A. C. 44. § 51—59.) who, after furnishing 
the most ample references to sacred and profane authorities, which palpably demon- 
strate the falsity of the story, returns with all the solemn bigotry of a papist, to the 
solemn conviction that the fathers and the saints who tell the story, must have had 
some verv g:ood reason for believing it. 



peter's apostleship. 221 

The other copyists of Justin hardly deserve any notice ; but it is interesting and 
instructive to observe how, in the progress of fabulous invention, one lie is pinned on 
to the tail of another, to form a glorious chain of historical sequences, for some dis- 
tant ecclesiastical annalist to hang his servile faith upon. Eusebius, for instance, 
enlarges the stories of Justin and Irenaeus, by an addition of his own, — that in his day 
there existed a sect which acknowledged this same Simon as God, and worshiped 
him and Helena or Selena, with some mysteriously wicked rites. Now all that his 
story amounts to, is, that in his time there was a sect called by a name resembling 
that of Simon, how nearly like it, no one knows ; but that by his own account their 
worship was of a secret character, so that he could, of course, know nothing certainly. 
But this is enough for him to add, as a solemn confirmation of a story now known to 
have been founded in falsehood. From this beginning, Eusebius goes on to say that 
Peter went to Rome in the second year of Claudius, to war against this Simon Ma- 
gus, who never went there; so that we know how much this whole tale is worth by 
looking into the circumstance which constitutes its essential foundation. The idea of 
Peter's visit to Rome at that time, is no where given before Eusebius, except in some 
part of the Clementina, a long series of most unmitigated falsehoods, forged in the 
name of Clemens Romanus, without any certain date, but commonly supposed to 
have been made up of the continued contributions of several impudent liars, during 
different portions of the second, third and fourth centuries. 

Creuzer also, in his deep and extensive researches into the religions of antiquity, 
in giving a " view of some of the older Italian nations," speaks of " Sancus Semo." 
He quotes Augustin (De civitate Dei. XVIII. 19,) as authority for the opinion that 
he was an ancient king, deified. He also alludes to the passage in Ovid, (quoted 
above by Baronius,) where he is connected with Hercules, and alluded to under three 
titles, as Semo, Sancus and Fidius. (Ovid, Fast. VI. 213, et seq.) But the learned 
Creuzer does not seem to have any correct notion of the character of the Semones, as 
a distinct order of inferior deities ; — a fact perfectly certain as given above, for which 
abundant authority is found in Varro, (deMystag.) as quoted by Fulgentius and Ba- 
ronius. From Creuzer I also notice, in an accidental immediate connection with 
Semo Sancus, the fact that the worship of the moon (Luna) was also of Sabine origin ; 
and being introduced along with that of Sancus, by Numa, may have had some rela- 
tion to that Semo, and may have concurred in originating the notion of the fathers 
about the woman Selena or Helena, as worshiped along with Simon. He also 
just barely alludes to the fact that Justin and Irenaeus have confounded this Semo 
Sancus with Simon Magus. (See Creuzer's Symbolik und Mythologie der alter 
Voelker, II. Theil. pp. 964—965.) 

The next conclusion authorized by those who support this fable 
is, that Peter, after achieving this great work of vanquishing the 
impostor Simon, proceeded to preach the gospel generally ; yet 
not at first to the hereditary citizens of imperial Rome, nor to any 
of the Gentiles, but to his own countrymen the Jews, great num- 
bers of whom then made their permanent abode in the great city. 
These foreigners, at that time, were limited in Rome to a peculiar 
section of the suburbs, and hardly dwelt within the walls of the 
city itself ; — an allotment corresponding with similar limitations 
existing in some of the modern cities of Europe, Asia, and north- 
ern Africa, and even in London, though there, only in accordance 
with long usage, and with actual convenience, but not with 
any existing law. The quarter of Rome in which the Jews dwelt 
in the days of Claudius, was west of the central section of the 
city, beyond the Tiber; and to this suburban portion, the story 
supposes the residence and labors of Peter to have been at first 
confined. But after a time, the fame of this mighty preacher of 

29 



222 



PETER S APOSTLESHIP. 



a new faith spread beyond, from tins despised foreign portio 

the environs, across the Tiber, over the seven hills themselves, 
and even into the halls of the patrician lords of Rome. Such an 
extension of fame, indeed, seems quite necessarv to make these 
two parts of this Likely story hang together at all : for it is hard 
to see how a stranger, from a distant eastern land, could thus ap- 
pear suddenly among them, and overturn, with a defeat so total 
and signal, the pretensions of one who had lately been exalted by 
the opinions of an adoring people to the character of a god. and 
had even received the solemn national sanction of this exaltation 
by a formal decree of the senate of Rome, confirmed by the abso- 
lute voice of the Caesar himself: and after such a victory, ovei 
such a person, be left long unnoticed in an obscure suburb. In 
accordance, therefore, with this reasonable notion, it is recorded 
in the continuation of the story r that when Peter, preachincr a t 
Rome, grew famous among the Gentiles, he was no longer allow- 
ed to occupy himself wholly among the Jews, but was thereafter 
taken by Pudens. a senator who believed in Christ, into his own 
house, on the Timinal Mount, one of the seven hills, but near the 
Jewish suburb. In the neighborhood of this house, as the legend 
relates, was afterwards erected a monument, called " the Shep- 
herd's." — a name which serves to identify this important locality 
to the modern Romans to this day. Being thus established in 
these lordly patrician quarters, the poor Galilean fisherman might 
well have thought himself blessed, in such a pleasant change 
from the uncomfortable lodgings with which the royal Agrippa had 
lately accommodated him, and from which he had made so willing 
an exit. But the legend does the faithful and devoted apostle the 
justice, to represent him as by no means moved by these luxuri- 
ous circumstances, to the least forgetinlness of the high commis- 
sion which was to be followed through all sorts of self-denial, — 
no less that which drew him from the soft and soul-relaxing en- 
joyments of a patrician palace, than that which led him to re- 
nounce the simple, hard-earned profits of a fisherman, on the 
changeful sea of Gennesaret. or to calmly meet the threats, the 
stripes, the chains, and the condemned cell, with which the en- 
mity of the Jewish magistrates had steadily striven to quench his 
fiery and energetic spirit. He is described as steadily laboring in 
the cause of the gospel among the Gentiles as well as the Jews, 
and with such success during the whole of the first year of his 
stay, that in the beginning of the following year lie is said by pa- 



PETEIt's APOSTLESHIP. 223 

pist writers to have solemnly and formally founded the church 
of Rome. This important fictitious event is dated with the most 
exact particularity, on the fifteenth of February, in the forty-third 
year of Christ, and the third year of the reign of the emperor 
Claudius. The empty, unmeaning pomposity of this announce- 
ment is a sufficient evidence of its fictitious character. According 
to the story itself, here Peter had been preaching nearly a whole 
year at Rome ; and if preaching, having a regular congregation, of 
course, and performing the usual accompaniments of preaching, 
as baptism, &c. Now there is not in the whole apostolic history 
the least account, nor the shadow of a hint, of any such ceremony 
as the founding of a church, distinct from the mere gathering of 
an assembly of believing listeners, who acknowledged their faith 
in Jesus by profession and by the sacraments. The organization of 
this religious assembly might indeed be made more perfect at one 
time than at another ; as for instance, a new church, which during 
an apostle's stay with it and preaching to it, had been abundantly 
well governed by the simple guidance of his wise, fatherly care, 
would, on his departure, need some more regular, permanent pro- 
vision for its government, lest among those who were all religious 
co-equals, there should arise disputes which would require a reg- 
ularly constituted authority to allay them. The apostle might, 
therefore, in such advanced requirements of the church, ordain 
elders, and so on ; but such an appendix could not, with the 
slightest regard to common sense or the rules of honest interpre- 
tation of language, be said to constitute the founding of a church. 
The very phrase of ordaining elders in a church, palpably implies 
and requires the previous distinct, complete existence of the church. 
In fact the entity of a church implies nothing more than a regu- 
lar assembly of believers, with an authorized ministry ; and if 
Peter had been preaching several months to the Jews of the trans- 
Tiberine suburb, or to the Romans of the Viminal mount, there 
must have been in one or both of those places, a church, to all in- 
tents, purposes, definitions and etymologies of a church. So that 
for him, almost a year after, to proceed to found a church in Rome, 
was the most idle work of supererogation in the world. And all 
the pompous statements of papist writers about any such formal- 
ity, and all the quotations that might be brought out of the fathers 
in its support, from Clement downwards, could not relieve the as- 
sertion of one particle of its palpable, self-evident absurdity. But 
the fable proceeds in the account of this important movement, da- 



224 peter's aposteeship. 

ting the apostolic reign of Peter from this very occasion, as above 
fixed, and running over various imaginary acts of his, during 
the tedious seven years for which the story ties him down to 
this one spot. Among many other unfounded matters, is specified 
the assertion, that from this city during the first year of his epis- 
copate, he wrote his first epistle, which he addressed to the believ- 
ers in Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia and Bithynia, — the coun- 
tries which are enumerated as visited by him in his fictitious tour. 
This opinion is grounded on the circumstance of its being dated 
from Babylon, which several later fathers understood as a term 
spiritually applied to Rome ; but in the proper place this notion will 
be fully discussed, and the true origin of the epistle more satisfac- 
torily given. Another important event in the history of the scrip- 
tures, — the writing of the gospel of Mark, — is also commonly con- 
nected with this part of Peter's life, by the papist historians ; but 
this event, with an account of the nature of this supposed connec- 
tion, and the discussion of all points in this subject, can be better 
shown in the life of that evangelist ; and to that it is therefore 
deferred. These matters and several others as little in place, seem 
to be introduced into this part of Peter's life, mainly for the sake 
giving him something particular to do, during his somewhat tedious 
stay in Rome, where they make him remain seven years after his 
first journey thither ; and give him here the character, office and 
title of bishop, — a piece of nomenclature perfectly unscriptural 
and absurd, because no apostle, in the New "Testament, is ever 
called a bishop ; but on the contrary, the office was evidently 
created to provide a substitute for an apostle, — a person who 
might perform the pastoral duties to the church, in the absence of 
its apostolic founder, overseeing and managing all its affairs in 
his stead, to report to him at his visitations, or in reply to his epis- 
tolary charges. To call an apostle a bishop, therefore, implies 
the absurdity of calling a superior officer by the title of his infe- 
rior, — as to call a captain, lieutenant, or a general-in-chief, colonel, 
or even as to call a bishop, deacon. During the life-time of the 
apostles, " bishop" was only a secondary title, and it was not till 
the death of all those commissioned by Christ, that this became the 
supreme officer in all churches. But the papists not appreciating 
any difficulty of this kind, go on crowning one absurdity with 
another, which claims, however, the additional merit of being 
amusing in its folly. This is the minute particularization of the 
shape, stuff, accoutrements and so on, of the chair in which bish- 



peter's apostleship. 225 

op Peter sat at Rome in his episcopal character. This identical 
wooden chair in which his apostolical body was seated when he 
was exerting the functions of his bishopric, is still, according to 
the same high papal authorities which maintain the fact of his 
ever having been bishop, preserved in the Basilica of the Vatican, 
at Rome, and is even now, on certain high occasions, brought out 
from its holy storehouse to bless with its presence the eyes of the 
adoring people. This chair is kept covered with a linen veil, 
among the various similar treasures of the Vatican, and has been 
eminent for the vast numbers of great miracles wrought by its 
presence. As a preliminary step, however, to a real faith in the 
efficacy of this old piece of furniture, it is necessary that those 
who hear the stories should believe that Peter was ever at Rome, 
to sit in this or any other chair there. It is observed, however, 
in connection with this lumbering article, in the papist histories, 
that on taking possession of this chair, as bishop of Rome, Peter 
resigned the bishopric of Antiocb, committing that see to the 
charge of Euodius, it having been the original diocese of this 
chief apostle, — a story about as true, as that any apostle was ever 
bishop any where The apostles were missionaries, for the most 
part, preaching the word of God from place to place, appointing 
bishops to govern and manage the churches in their absence, and 
after the'ir final departure, as their successors and substitutes ; but 
no apostle is, on any occasion whatever, called a bishop in any 
part of the New Testament, or of any early writer. The most 
important objection, however, to all this absurd account of Peter, 
as bishop of Rome, is the fact uniformly attested by those early fa- 
thers, who allude to his having ever visited that city, that having 
founded the church there, he appointed Linus the first bishop,— 
a statement in exact accordance with the view here given of the 
office of a bishop, and of the mode in which the apostles constitu- 
ted that office in the churches founded and visited by them. 

The dote of the foundation. — All this is announced with the most elaborate solem- 
nity, in all the older papist writers, because on this point of the foundation of the Ro- 
man church by Peter, they were long- in the habit of basing the whole right and title 
of the bishop of Rome, as Peter's successor, to the supremacy of the church univer- 
sal. The great authorities, quoted by them in support of this exact account of the 
whole affair, with all its dates, even to the month and day, are the bulls of some of 
the popes, enforcing the celebration of that day throughout all the churches under the 
Romish see, and the forms of prayer in which this occasion is commemorated even 
to this day. Moreover, a particular form is quoted from some of the old rituals of the 
church, not now in use, in which the ancient mode of celebrating this event, in pray- 
er and thanksgiving, is verbally given. " Omnipotens sempiterne Deus, qui ineffa- 
bili sacramento, apostolo tuo Petro principatum Romae urbis tribuisti, unde se evan- 
gelica Veritas per tota mundi regna diffunderet : praesta quaesumus, ut quod in orbem 



22() PETER/S AFOSTLESHIP. 

terrarnm ejus praedicatione manavit, universitas Christiana devotione sequatur." — 
" Almighty, eternal God, who by an ineffable consecration, didst give to thy apostle 
Peter the dominion of the city of Rome, that thence the gospel truth might diffuse 
itself throughout all the kingdoms of the world: grant, we pray, that what has flow- 
ed into the whole circuit of the earth by his preaching, all Christendom may de- 
voutly follow." — A prayer so melodiously expressed, and in such beautiful Latin, that 
it is a great pity it should have been a mere trick, to spread and perpetuate a 
downright, baseless lie, which had no other object than the extension of the gloomy, 
soul-darkening tyranny of the papal sway. Other forms of prayer, for private oc- 
casions, are also mentioned by Baronius, as commemorating the foundation of the 
church of Rome by Peter ; and all these, as well as the former, being fixed for the 
fifteenth of February, as above quoted. Those records of fables, also, the old Ro- 
man martyrologies, are cited for evidence. The later Latin fathers add their testi- 
mony, and even the devout Augustin (serm. 15, 16, de sanct, &c.) is quoted in support 
of it. Baronius gives all these evidences, (Ann. 45, § 1,) and goes on to earn the 
cardinal's hat, which finally rewarded his zealous efforts, by maintaining the unity 
and universality of this apostolic foundation, and the absolute supremacy consequent- 
ly appertaining to the succession of Peter in the Roman see. 

Peter's chair. — This fable (page 225) is from Baronius, who wrote about 1580 ; but 
alas ! modern accidental discoveries make dreadful havoc with papistical antiquities, 
and have done as much to correct the mistake in this matter, as in Justin's blunder 
about Simon Magus. I had transcribed Baron ius's story into the text as above with- 
out knowing of the fact, till a glance at the investigations of the sagacious Bower 
gave me the information which I here extract from him. 

" They had, as they thought, till the year 1662, a pregnant proof, not only of St. Pe- 
ter's erecting their chair, but of his sitting in it himself; for till that year, the very 
chair, on which they believed, or would make others believe, he had sat, was shown 
and exposed to public adoration on the 18th of January, the festival of the said chair. 
But while it was cleaning, in order to be set up in some conspicuous place of the Va- 
tican, the twelve labors of Hercules unluckily appeared engraved on it. ' Our wor- 
ship, however,' says Giacomo Bartolini, who was present at this discovery, and re- 
lates it, ' was not misplaced, since it was not to the w r ood we paid it, but to the prince 
of the apostles, St. Peter.' An author of no mean character, unwilling to give up the 
holy chair, even after this discovery, as having a place and a peculiar solemnity 
among the other saints, has attempted to explain the labors of Hercules in a mystical 
sense, as emblems representing the future exploits of the popes. (Luchesini catedra 
restituita a S. Pietro.) But the ridiculous and distorted conceits of that writer are 
not worthy our notice, though by Clement X. they were judged not unworthy of a re- 
ward." (Bower's Lives of the Popes, Vol. I. p. 7, 4to. ed. 1749.) 

The next noticeable thing that Peter is made to do at Rome, is 
the sending out of his disciples from Rome to act as missionaries 
and bishops in the various wide divisions of the Roman empire, 
westward from the capital, which were yet wholly unoccupied by 
the preachers of the gospel of Jesus Christ. In his supposed char- 
acter of keeper of the great flock of Christ, having now fully es- 
tablished the Roman see, he turned his eyes to those distant regions, 
and considering their religious wants and utter spiritual destitu- 
tion, sent into them several disciples whom he is supposed to have 
qualified for such labors by his own minute personal instructions. 
Thus, as rays from the sun, and as streams from the fountain, did 
the Christian faith go forth through these from the see of Peter, 
and spread far and wide throughout the world. So say the im- 
aginative papist historians, whose fancy not resting satisfied witli 
merely naming the regions to which these new missionaries were 



227' 

now sent, goes on with a catalogue of the persons, and of the pla- 
ces where they became finally established in their bishoprics. But 
it would be honoring such fables too much, to record the long 
string of names which are ill the papist annals, given to designate 
the missionaries thus sent out, and the particular places to which 
they were sent. It is enough to notice that the sum of the whole 
story is, that preachers of the gospel were thus sent not only into 
the western regions alluded to. but into many cities of Italy and 
Sicily. In Gaul, Spain and Germany, many are said to have 
been certainly established ; and to extend the fable as far as pos- 
sible, it is even hinted that Britain received the gospel through the 
preaching of some of these missionaries of Peter ; but this distant 
circumstance is stated rather as a conjecture, while the rest are 
minutely and seriously given, in all the grave details of persons 
and places. 

In various works of this character, Peter is said by the propa- 
gators of this fable to have passed seven years at Rome, during 
all which time he is not supposed to have gone beyond the bounds 
of the city. The occasion of his departure at the end of this 
long period, as stated by the fabulous records from which the whole 
story is drawn, was the great edict of Claudius Caesar, banishing 
all Jews from Rome, among whom Peter must of course have 
been included. This imperial sentence of general banishment, is 
not only alluded to in the Acts of the Apostles, but is particularly 
specified in the Roman and Jewish historians of those times ; 
from which its exact date is ascertained to have been the ninth year 
of the reign of Claudius, from which, as Peter is supposed to have 
gone to Rome in the second year of that reign, the intervening 
time must have been, as above stated, seven years. The particu- 
lars of this general banishment, its motives and results, will be 
better given in that part of this work where important points in 
authentic true history are connected with the event. Under these 
circumstances, however, the great first bishop of Rome is suppo- 
sed to have left this now consecrated capital of Christendom, and 
traveled off eastward, along with the general throng of Jewish 
fugitives. Some of the papist commentators on this story are 
nevertheless, so much scandalized at the thought of Peter's run- 
ning away in this seemingly undignified manner, (though this is 
in fact the part of the story which is most consistent with the real 
truth, since no apostle was ever taught to consider it beneath his 
dignity to get out of danger,) that they therefore strive to make it 



22S 



PETER'S AP0STLESH1P, 



appear that he still stayed in Rome, in spite of the imperial edict, 
and boldly preached the gospel, without reference to danger, until, 
soon after, it became necessary for him to go to the east on impor- 
tant business. The majority, however, are agreed that he did re- 
move from Rome along with the rest of the Jews, though while he 
remained there, he is supposed to have kept up the apostolic dig- 
nity by preaching at all risks, His journey eastward is made out 
in rather a circuitous manner, probably for no better reason than 
to make their stories as long as possible ; and therefore it is enough 
to say, that he is carried by the continuation of the fable, from 
Rome first into Africa, where he erected a church at Carthage, 
over which he ordained Crescens, one of his Roman disciples, as 
bishop. Proceeding next along the northern coast of the conti- 
nent, he is brought to Alexandria, where, of course, he founds a 
church, leaving the evangelist Mark in it, as bishop; and passing 
up the Nile to Thebes, constitutes Rums there, in the same capa- 
city. Thence the fabulous chroniclers carry him at once to Jerusa- 
lem ; and here ends this tedious string of details, the story being 
now resumed from the clear and honest record of the sacred his- 
torian, to the great refreshment of the writer as well as the reader, 
after dealing so long in what is utterly unalloyed falsehood. 

Peter, bishop of Rome. — The great question of his having e\ r er visited this cily, has 
two separate and distinct parts, resting on totally different grounds, since they refer 
to two widely distant periods of time ; but that part which refers to his early visit, 
being connected with this portion of the history, I proceed in this place to the full 
examination of all the evidences, which have ever been brought in support of both 
divisions of this great subject in papal dogmatic history, from the supposed records 
of this event in the writings of the early Christian Fathers. On this head, instead 
of myself entering into a course of investigations among these writers, which my 
very slight acquaintance with their works would make exceedingly laborious to me, 
and probably very incomplete after all, I here avail myself of the learned and in- 
dustrious research of my friend, the Rev. Dr. Murdock, widely and honorably known 
as the Translator and Annotator of Mosheim's Ecclesiastical History. Through his 
kindness, I am allowed the free use of a long series of instructive lectures, formerly 
delivered by him as a professor of Ecclesiastical History, which having been subse- 
quently modified to suit a popular audience, will bring the whole of this learned mat- 
ter, with the fullest details of the argument, in a form perfectly intelligible and ac- 
ceptable to my readers. 

THE TESTIMONY OF THE EARLY FATHERS. 

In the latter part of the first century, Clement, bishop of Rome, (Ep. I. ad 
Corinth, § 5,) speaks of Paul and Peter as persecuted, and dying as martyrs. 
But he docs not say when, or where. In the middle of the second century, 
Justin Ivlartyr speaks of Simon Magus, his magic and his deification, at 
Rome ; but makes no mention of Peter's going to Rome, to combat him. Nor 
does any other father, so far as I know, till after A. D. 300. About twenty 
years after Justin Martyr, Irenaeus, (bishop of Lyons,) wrote his five books 
against the heretics ; in which he confutes them, by the testimony of those 
churches which were said to have been founded immediately by the apostles. 
The following extract from him will fully illustrate that mode of reasoning, 



peter's apostleship. 229 

snd also show us what Irenaeus knew of Peter's being at Rome. He says : 
" The doctrine preached to all the world by the apostles, is now found in the 
church ; — as all may see if they are willing to learn ; and we are able to 
name the persons whom the apostles constituted the bishops of the church- 
es, and their successors down to our times ; who have never taught or known 
-any such doctrine as the heretics advance. Now if the apostles had been ac- 
quainted with [certain] recondite mysteries, which they taught privately, and 
only to such as were the most perfect, they would certainly have taught them 
to those men to whom they committed the care of the churches ; for they re- 
quired them to be very perfect and blameless in all things, whom they made 
-their successors and substitutes in office ; — because, if they conducted aright, 
great advantage would result ; but if they should go wrong, immense evils 
would ensue. But, as it would be tedious, in the present work, to enumerate 
the successions in all the churches, I will mention but one, viz. the greatest, 
most ancient, and well-known by all, the church founded and established at 
Home, by the two most glorious apostles, Peter and Paul. The faith of this 
church was the result of apostolic teaching, and the same as was every where 
preached; and it has come down to us through a succession of bishops; and 
■by this example we confound all those who, in any mannor, either from selfish 
views and vain glory, or from blindness to truth and erroneous belief, hold 
forth false doctrine. For with this church, on account of its superior pre-em- 
inence, every other church, — that is, the true believers every where, — must 
agree ; because, in it has ever been preserved the doctrine derived immedi- 
ately from the apostles, and which was every where propagated. The blessed 
apostles having founded and instructed this church, committed the episcopacy 
wfit to Linus ; who is mentioned by Paul in his epistle to Timothy. Anac- 
letus succeeded Linus ; and after him, the third bishop from the apostles, Was 
Clement, who saw the apostles themselves, and conferred with them, while 
-their preaching and instruction was still sounding in his ears." Irenaeus then 
enumerates the succeeding bishops, down to Eleutherius, " who," he says, " is 
now the twelfth bishop from the apostles." In the preceding section, Irenaeus 
tells us that Matthew wrote his gospel " while Peter and Paul were preach- 
ing, and founding the church at Rome." 

Here is full and explicit testimony, that Paul and Peter, unitedly, preached 
and founded the church at Rome ; and that they constituted Linus the first 
bishop there. The language excludes both Peter and Paul, — and excludes 
both, equally, from the episcopal chair at Rome. " They committed the epis- 
copacy to Linus ;" who was the first bishop, as Clement was the third, and El- 
eutherius the twelfth. Contemporary with Irenaeus was Dionysius, bishop 
of Corinth. In reply to a monitory letter from the Romish church, of which 
Eusebius (PI. E. IL 25,) has preserved an extraet, Dionysius says: "By 
this your excellent admonition, you have united in one the planting, by Peter 
and Paul, of the Romans and Corinthians. For both of them coming to our 
Corinth, planted and instructed us ; — and in like manner, going to Italy to- 
gether, --after teaching there, they suffered martyrdom at the same time." 
From this testimony we may learn how and when Peter went to Rome ; as 
well as what relation he sustained to the church there. He and Paul came 
to Corinth together ; and when they had regulated and instructed that church 5 
they went on together to Italy, and did the same things at Rome as before at 
Corinth. Now this, if true, must have been after the captivity of Paul at 
Rome, mentioned in the book of Acts. For Paul never went directly from 
Corinth to Rome before that captivity, since he never was at Rome before he 
was carried there a prisoner, in the year A. D. 62. But, if released in the year 
.64, he might have visited Corinth afterwards, with Peter, and then have trav- 
eled with him to Rome. To the church of Rome, Peter and Paul sustained 
the same relation ; and that was the same as they had sustained to the church 
of Corinth, viz. that of apostolic teachers and founders, — not that of ordina- 

30 



230 



APOSTLESHIP. 



hy bishops. That is, Peter was no more the bishop of Rome than Paul was ; 
and neither of them, any more the bishop of Rome than both were bishops of 
Corinth. Dionysius likewise, here affirms, that Peter and Paul suffered mar- 
tyrdom " at the same time ;" and probably at Rome, where they last taught. 
That Rome was the place is proved by Caius, a Romish ecclesiastic, about A.D. 
200, as quoted by Eusebius, (H. E. II. 25.) " I am able," says he, " to show 
the trophies [the sepulchers"] of the apostles. For if you will go to the Vati- 
can, or along the Via Ostia, you will find the trophies of those who established 
this church." 

The next father, Clement of Alexandria, (about A. D. 200,) reports it as 
tradition, that. Mark wrote his gospel at Rome, while Peter was preaching 
there. (Euseb. H. E. VI. 14.) In the forepart of the third century, lived Ter- 
tullian, a fervid and learned writer. He assailed the heretics with the same 
argument as Irenaeus did. " Run over," says he, " the apostolic churches, in 
which the chairs of apostles still preside in their places, and in which the au- 
tographs of their epistles are still read. If you are near to Italy, you have 
Rome, a witness for us ; and how blessed a church is that on which apostles 
poured out their whole doctrine, together with their blood I where Peter 
equaled our Lord in his mode of suffering ; and where Paul was crowned, with 
the exit of John the Baptist." (de Praescript. c. 36.) In another work he says : 
" Let us see what the Romans hold forth ; to whom Peter and Paul imparted 
the gospel sealed with their own blood." (adv. Marcion, IV. c. 5.) Again he 
says : " Neither is there a disparity between those whom John baptized in the 
Jordan, and Peter in the Tiber." (de Baptismo.) Pie moreover testifies that Peter 
suffered in the reign of Nero, (Scorpiac. c. 15,) and that this apostle ordained 
Clement bishop of Rome. (Praescript. c. 32.) In the middle of the third cen- 
tury, Cyprian of Carthage, writing to the bishop of Rome, (Ep. 55, ad Cor- 
nel.) calls the church of Rome "the principal church ;" and that where "Pe- 
ter's chair" was ; — and "whose faith was derived from apostolic preaching." 
In the end of the third century or the beginning of the fourth, Lactantius (In- 
stitt. L. IV. c. 21,) speaks of "Peter and Paul" as having wrought miracles, 
and uttered predictions at Rome ; and describes their prediction of the destruc- 
tion of Jerusalem. And in his work on the Deaths of Persecutors, (chap. 2,) 
he says: "During the reign of Nero, Peter came to Rome; and having 
wrought several miracles by the power of God, which rested on him, he con- 
verted many to righteousness, and erected a faithful and abiding temple for 
God. This became known to Nero, who, learning that multitudes, not only 
at Rome but in all other places, were abandoning idolatry and embracing the 
new religion, and being hurried on to all sorts of cruelty by his brutal tyranny, 
set himself, the first of all, to destroy this religion, and to persecute the ser- 
vants of God. So he ordered Peter to be crucified and Paul to be beheaded." 
I have now detailed every important testimony which I could find in the gen- 
uine works of the fathers, in the three first centuries. The witnesses agree 
very well ; and they relate nothing but what may be true. They make Peter 
and Paul to go from Corinth to Rome, in company, during the reign of Nero; 
and after preaching and strengthening the church at Rome, and ordaining Li- 
nus to be its first bishop, — both suffering martyrdom at Rome on the same day; 
Peter being crucified and Paul decapitated. There is no representation of Pe- 
ter's being any more bishop of Rome than Paul was ; — and Irenaeus in partic- 
ular, expressly makes Linus the first bishop, and to be ordained by the two 
apostles. 

We now come to Eusebius, who wrote about A. D. 325. He quotes most 
of the fathers above cited, but departs widely from them, in regard to the time,^ 
and the occasion, of Peter's going to Rome. He says it was in the reign of 
Claudius; — and for the purpose of opposing Simon Magus, (as the Clemen- 
tine novels represented the matter.) Yet be does not make Peter lo be bishop 
of Rome. The subsequent writers of the fourth and following centuries, agree 



Peter's apostleship. 231 

with Eusebius as to the time and the occasion of Peter's going to Rome ; and 
most of them make Peter to be the first bishop of Rome. According to them, 
Peter remained in Judea only about four years after the ascension ; then he 
was bishop of Antioch seven years, and in the second year of Claudius, A. D. 
43, removed his chair to Rome, where he was bishop for twenty-five years, or 
until his death, A. D. 68. And this is the account generally given by the pa- 
pists, quite down to the present times. 

OBJECTIONS TO THE TRADITIONARY HISTORY OF PETER. 

1. So far as the later fathers contradict those of the three first centuries, 
they ought to be rejected ; because, they could not have so good means of in- 
formation. Oral tradition must, in three centuries, have become worthless, 
compared with what it was in the second and thiid centuries ;— and written 
testimony, which could be relied on, they had none, except that of the early 
fathers. Besides, we have seen how these later fathers were led astray. They 
believed the fable of Simon Magus's legerdemain at Rome, and his deification 
there. They read the Clementine fictions, and supposed them to be novels 
founded on facts. In their eulogies of Peter, they were fond of relating mar- 
velous and affecting stories about him, and therefore too readily admitted fab- 
ulous traditions. And lastly, the bishops of Rome and their numerous adhe- 
rents had a direct and an immense interest depending on this traditional his- 
tory ; — for by it alone, they made out their succession to the chair of Peter, and 
the legitimacy of their ghostly power. 

2. The later fathers invalidate their own testimony, by stating what is in- 
credible, and what neither they nor their modern adherents can satisfac- 
torily explain. They state that Linus succeeded Peter, for about twelve years ; 
then followed Cietus or Anacletus, for about twelve years more ; and then 
succeeded Clement. And yet they tell us, all the three were ordained by the 
hands of Peter How could this be? Did Peter ordain three successive bish- 
ops, after he was dead? — or did he resign his office to these bishops, and re- 
tire to a private station, more than twenty-five years before his crucifixion ? 
No, says Epiphanius, (Haer. 27,) and after him most of the modern papists; 
(Nat. Alex. H. E. saecul. I. Diss. XIII. Burius, &c.) but Peter being often ab- 
sent from Rome, and having a vast weight of cares, had assistant bishops ; 
and Linus and Cietus were not the successors but the assistants of Peter. 
But Irenaeus, Eusebius, Jerome, and all the authorized catalogues of popes, 
explicitly make Linus and Cietus to be successors to Peter. Besides, why 
did Peter need an assistant any more than the succeeding pontiffs ? And 
what age since has ever witnessed an assistant pope at Rome ? A more plau- 
sible solution (but which the papists cannot admit) is given by Rufinus. 
(Praef. ad Recogn. Clem.) " As I understand it," says he, " Linus and Cietus 
were the bishops of Rome in Peter's life-time; so that they performed the 
episcopal functions, and he, those of an apostle. And, in this way the whole 
may be true," says Rufinus. Granted, if this were the only objection ; and if 
it could be made out that Peter went to Rome full twenty -four years before his 
martyrdom. But supposing it true, how can the successors of Linus and 
Cietus, the bishops, be successors of Peter, the apostle. 

3. Peter removed his chair to Rome, (say the later fathers and most of the 
Catholics,) in the second year of Claudius, that is, A. D. 43 ; and he resided 
there twenty-four years, or till his death. But we have the best proof, — that 
of holy writ, — that Peter was resident at Jerusalem, as late as the year A. D. 
44 ; when king Agrippa seized him there, and imprisoned him, with intent to 
kill him. (Acts xii. 3 — 19.) And we have similar proof that he was still there 
in the year 51 ; when he deliberated and acted with the other apostles and 
brethren of Jerusalem, on the question of obliging Gentiles to observe the law 
of Moses. (Acts xv. 7, &c; Gal, ii. 1 — 9.) And, moreover, some time after 
this, as Paul tells us, (Gal. ii. 1 1 — 14,) he came to Anlioch, in Syria, and there 
dissembled about eating with the Gentiles. The common reply of the Cath- 



232 peter's apostleship. 

olics, is, that Peter often made long journeys ; and he might happen to be at 
Jerusalem, and at Antioch, at these times. But this solution is rejected by 
the more candid Romanists themselves, who agree with the early fathers, as- 
serting that Peter first went to Rome in the reign of Nero. (See Pagi Crit, 
Bar. anm 43.) 

4. Paul wrote his epistle to the Romans in the year 59, as is supposed. And 
from this epistle it is almost certain, Peter was not then at Rome ; and high- 
ly probable he had never been there. Throughout the epistle, Peter's name 
is not even mentioned ; nor is that of Linus or Cletus, his supposed assistants, 
who always, it is said, supplied his place when he was absent. Indeed, so 
far as can be gathered from Paul's epistle, the Romish Christians appear not 
to have had, at that time nor previously, any bishop or any ecclesiastical head. 
The epistle is addressed " To all that be in Rome, beloved of God, called to 
be saints." (Rom. i. 7.) Tt exhorts them to obey magistrates ; — but not to 
reverence and obey their spiritual rulers. (Rom. xiii. 1, &e.) It inculcates on 
them all, the duty of living in harmony, — of being modest and humble, — of 
using their different gifts for the common good ; (Rom. xii. 3, &c.;) but gives 
no intimation that they were amenable to any ecclesiastical authorities. It 
gives them rules for conducting their disciplinary acts, as a popular body, 
(Rom. xiv. 1, &c.,) but does not refer to any regulations given them by St. 
Peter and his assistants. It contains salutations to near thirty persons, male 
and female, whom Paul knew personally, or by hearsay, (chap, xvi.) but nei- 
ther Peter, nor Linus, nor Cletus is of the number; nor is any one spoken of 
as bishop, or elder, or pastoi, or as clothed with any ecclesiastical authority. 
Priscilla and Aquila, and several others whom he had known in Greece or 
Asia, are named ; and seem to be the leading persons in the church. Indeed, 
it would seem that no apostle had, as yet, ever been at Rome. Paul says he 
had " had a great desire, for many years," to visit them, and he intended to do 
so as soon as possible. (Rom. xv. 23.) And he tells them why he longed to 
see them, that he might impart to them " some spiritual gifts ;" — that is, some 
of those miraculous gifts, which none but apostles could confer. (Rom. i. 11.) 
I may add, that Paul gives them a whole system of divinity in this epistle ; 
and crowds more theology into it, than into any other he ever wrote ;— as if he 
considered this church as needing fundamental instruction in the gospel, more 
than any other. Now, how could all this be, if Peter had been there fifteen 
years, with an assistant bishop to aid him ,- and had completely organized, 
and regulated, and instructed this central church of all Christendom? What 
Catholic bishop, at the present day, would dare to address tire church of Rome 
without once naming his liege lord, the pope; and would give them a whole 
system of theology, and numerous rules and regulations for their private con- 
duct and for their public discipline, without even an intimation that they had 
any spiritual guides and rulers, to whom they were accountable? 

5. Three years after this epistle was written, (that is, A. D. 62,) Paul ar- 
rived at Rome, and was there detained a prisoner for two years, or until A. D. 
64. Now let us see if we can find Peter there, at or during this period. When 
it was known at Rome that Paul was approaching the city, the Christians 
there went twenty miles to meet him, and escort him ; — so eager were they 
to see an apostle of Jesus Christ. Three days after his arrival, " Paul called 
the chief of the Jews together," to have conversation with them. They had 
heard nothing against him, and they were glad to see him, — for they wished 
to hear more about the Christian sect ; " for," said they, "as concerning this 
sect, we know that it is every where spoken against ;" and " we desire to hear 
of thee what thou thinkest." (Acts xxviii. 22.) They appointed him a day, 
when they all assembled for the purpose, and he addressed them " from morn- 
ing till evening." Now could Peter, the apostle of the circumcision, have been 
near twenty years bishop of Rome, and so full of business as to employ an 
assistant bishop, and yet the Jews there be so ignorant of Christianity, and so> 



233 

glad to meet with one who could satisfy their curiosity to learn something 
about it? Moreover, Paul now continued to preach the gospel in "his own 
hired house," at Rome, for two years ; (Acts xxviii. 30, 31;) and it would 
seem, was very successful. During this time he wrote his epistles to the Ephe- 
sians, Philippians, Colossians, Philemon, and perhaps, that to the Hebrews. 
In these epistles he often speaks of his success in making converts, and of the 
brethren who labored with him ;— but he does not once even name Peter, or 
Linus, or Cletus, — or intimate, at all, that there was a cathedral church at 
Rome, with an apostle or any bishop at its head. He sends numerous saluta- 
tions from individuals whom he names, and from little companies of Chris- 
tians in their houses, — but no salutations from Peter, or from any bishop, or 
other officer of the church there. The Catholics tell us, Peter might happen 
to be absent during this period. What ! absent two whole years ! and his as- 
sistant bishop also ? Very negligent shepherds ! But where was the church 
all this time, — the enlightened Christian community, and the elders and dea- 
cons, who governed and instructed it, from Sabbath to Sabbath ? Were all 
these, too, gone a journey ? No : it is manifest Paul was now the only regular 
preacher of the gospel at Rome : and he was breaking up fallow ground, that 
had never before been cultivated, and sown, and made to bear fruit. 

[This closes the learned argument on .the testimonies of the Fathers, extracted 
from Dr. Murdock's manuscripts.] 

Lardner also gives a sort of abstract of the passages in the fathers, which refer to 
this subject, but not near so full, nor so just to the original passages, as that of Dr. 
Murdock, although he refers to a few authors not alluded to here, whose testimony, 
however, amounts to little or nothing. Lardner's disposition to believe all these long- 
established Roman fables, seems very great, and. on these points, his critical accura- 
cy appears to fail in maintaining its general character. However, in the simple pas- 
sage from Clemens Romanus, referred to above, he is very full, not only translating 
the whole passage relating to Peter and Paul, but entering into a very elaborate dis- 
cussion of the views taken of it ; but after all he fails so utterly in rearing an historic- 
al argument on this slender basis, that I cannot feel called on to do anything more 
than barely refer the critical reader to the passage in his life of Peter, (VII.) 

Bower has given numerous quotations, too, from these sources, but nothing not 
contained in the abstract above, of which a great merit is, that it gives all the passa- 
ges in full, in a faithful and highly expressive translation. (See Bower's Lives of the 
Popes. " Peter.") 

THE COUNCIL OP THE APOSTLES AT JERUSALEM. 

The last circumstance of Peter's life and actions, recorded in 
the Acts of the Apostles, is one so deeply involved also in the 
conduct of others of the holy band, that the history of the whole 
affair can be best given in connection with their lives ; more es- 
pecially as the immediate occasion of it arose under the labors of 
these other persons. All the statement which is here necessary to 
introduce the part which Peter took in the sayings and doings on 
this occasion, is simply as follows. Paul and Barnabas, having 
returned to Antioch from their first great mission from that city, 
throughout almost the whole circuit of Asia Minor, were, soon 
after their arrival in that city, involved in a vexatious dispute with 
a set of persons, who, having come down from Jerusalem, had 
undertaken to give the Syrian Christians more careful instruc- 
tions in the minutiae of religious duty, than they had received 
from those who had originally effected their conversion. These 



234 



PETERS APOSTLESIIIP. 



new teachers being directly from that holy city, which, having 
been the great scene of the instructions and sufferings of Jesus 
Christ, and still being the seat of the apostolic college, was re- 
garded by all, as the true source of religious light, to Christians 
as well as Jews, throughout the world, therefore made no small 
commotion in the church of Antioch, when they began to incul- 
cate, as essential to salvation, a full conformity to all the minute 
ritual observances of the Mosaic law. The church of Antioch, 
having been planted and taught by men of a more catholic spirit, 
had gathered within itself a large number of heathen from that 
Gentile city, who, led by their convictions of the truth and spirit- 
uality of the Christian faith, had renounced entirely all the idol- 
atries in which they had been brought up, giving themselves, as 
it would seem, with honest resolution, to a life of such moral pu- 
rity, as they considered alone essential to the maintenance of their 
new religious character. Still, they had never supposed, that in 
renouncing their idolatrous superstitions, they had bound them- 
selves to throw off also those customs of their country, which 
could have no connection with moral purity of conduct, and had 
therefore still remained in national peculiarities, Gentiles ; though 
in creed, and religious practice, Christians. In this course they 
had been encouraged by the liberal and enlarged views of their 
religious instructors, who had never once hinted at the necessity 
of imposing upon Gentile Christians the burden of the Jewish 
law, which all the impressions of education and previous habits 
of life would have made quite intolerable. The wisdom of this 
enlightened spirit was seen in the great accessions of Gentiles, 
who, being convinced of the necessity of a moral change, were 
not met by any ceremonial impediments to the full adoption of a 
pure religion. Paul and Barnabas were, therefore, not a little 
troubled with this new difficulty, brought in by these Jewish 
teachers, who, being fresh from the fountain of religious know- 
ledge, claimed great authority in reference to all delicate points 
of this nature. At last, after long and violent disputes between 
these old-school and new-school theologians, it was resolved to re- 
fer the whole matter to the twelve apostles themselves, at Jerusa- 
lem, who might well be supposed qualified to say what they con- 
sidered to be the essential doctrines and observances of Chris- 
tianity. Paul and Barnabas, therefore, with some of the rest en- 
gaged in the discussion, went up to Jerusalem as a delegation, for 
this purpose, and presented the whole difficulty to the considera- 



Peter's apostleshjp. 235 

tion of the apostles. So little settled, after all, were the views 
and feelings of these first preachers of Christianity about the de- 
gree of freedom to be enjoyed by the numerous Gentile converts, 
that all the Jewish prejudices of many of them burst out at once, 
and high ground was taken against any dispensation in favor of 
Gentile prejudices. After a long discussion, in full assembly of 
both apostles and church-officers, Peter arose in the midst of the 
debate, taking the superiority to which his peculiar commission 
and his long precedence among them entitled him, and in a tone 
of dignified decision addressed them. He reminded them, in the 
first place, of that unquestionable call by which God had chosen 
him from among all the apostles, to proclaim to the heathen the 
word of the gospel, and of that solemn sign by which God had 
attested the completeness of their conversion, knowing, as he did, 
the hearts of all his creatures. The signs of the Holy Spirit 
having been imparted to the heathen converts with the same per- 
fection of regenerating influence that had been manifested in those 
of the Jewish faith who had believed, it was manifestly challeng- 
ing the testimony of God himself, to try to put on them the irk- 
some yoke of the tedious Mosaic ritual, a yoke which not even 
the Jewish disciples, nor their fathers before them, had been able 
to bear in all the appointed strictness of its observances ; and 
much less, then, could they expect a burden so intolerable, to 
be supported by those to whom it had none of the sanctions of 
national and educational prejudice, which so much assisted its do- 
minion over the feelings of the Jews. And all the disciples, even 
those of Jewish race, must be perfectly satisfied that their whole 
reliance for salvation should be, not on any legal conformity, but 
on that common favor of their Lord, Jesus Christ, in which the 
Gentile converts also trusted. 

Challenge the testimony of God. — This is the substance of Kuinoel's ideas of the 
force of this passage, (Acts xv. 10.) irstpa&Ts rov Qeov, (peirazete ton Theon.) His 
words are, " Tentare Deum dicuntur, qui veritatem, omnipotentiam, omniscientiam, 
etc. Dei in dubium vocare, vel nova divinae potentiae ac voluntatis documenta de- 
siderant, adeoque Deo obnituntur." — " Those are said to tempt God who call in ques- 
tion Gods truth, omnipotence, omniscience, &c, or demand new evidences of the di- 
vine power or will, and thus strive against God." He quotes Pott and Schleusner in 
support of this view of the passage. Rosenmueller and Bloomiieid take the same 
view, as well as many others quoted by the latter and by Poole. Bloomfield is very 
full on the whole of Peter's speech, and on all the discussion, with the occasions of it. 

Chose me. — This passage has been the subject of much discussion, bat I have given 
a free translation which disagrees with no one of the views of its literal force. The 
fairest opinion of the matter is, that the expression e^Xs^aro ev vpiv, is a Hebraism. (See 
Vorstius and others quoted by Bloomfield.) 

This logically clear statement of whole difficulty, supported by 



236 

the decisive authority of the chief of the apostles, most effectu- 
ally hushed all discussion at once ; and the whole assembly kept 
silence, while Paul and Barnabas recounted the extent and success 
of their labors. After they had finished, James, as the leader of 
the Mosaic faction, arose and expressed his own perfect acquies- 
cence in the decision of Simon Peter, and proposed an arrangement 
for a dispensation in favor of the Gentile converts, perfectly satis- 
factory to all. This conclusion, establishing the correctness of 
the tolerant and accommodating views of the chief apostle, ended 
the business in a prudent manner, the details of which will be 
given in the lives of those more immediately concerned in the re- 
sults ; and though so abrupt a conclusion may be undesirable 
here, it will be only robbing Peter to pay Paul. 
peter's visit to antioch. 

The historian of the Acts of the Apostles, after the narration 
of the preceding occurrence, makes no farther allusion to Peter ; 
devoting himself wholly to the account of the far more extensive 
labors of Paul and his companions, so that for the remaining re- 
cords of Peter's life, reference must be had to other sources. 
These sources, however, are but few, and the results of investi- 
gations into them must be very brief. 

From some passages in the first part of Paul's epistle to the 
Galatians, in which he gives an account of his previous inter- 
course with the twelve apostles, having mentioned his own visit 
to Jerusalem and its results, as just described above, he speaks of 
Peter as coming down to Antioch, soon after, where his conduct, 
in some particulars, was such as to meet the very decided repre- 
hension of Paul. On his first arrival in that Gentile city, Peter, 
in accordance with the liberal views taught him by the revelation 
at Joppa and Caesarea, mingled, without scruple, among all class- 
es of believers in Christ, claiming their hospitalities and all the 
pleasures of social intercourse, making no distinction between 
those of Jewish and of heathen origin. But in a short time, a 
company of persons came down from Jerusalem, sent particularly 
by James, no doubt with a reference to some especial observations 
on the behavior of the chief apostle, to see how it accorded with 
the Jerusalem standard of demeanor towards those, whom, by the 
Mosaic law, he must consider improper persons for the familiar in- 
tercourse of a Jew. Peter, probably knowing that they were dis- 
posed to notice his conduct critically on these matters of ceremo- 
nial punctilio, prudently determined to quiet these censors by 



peter's apostleship. 237 

avoiding all occasion for any collision with their prejudices. Be- 
fore their arrival, he had mingled freely with the Grecian and 
Syrian members of the Christian community, eating with them, 
and conforming to their customs as far as was convenient for un- 
restrained social intercourse. But he now withdrew himself 
from their society, and kept himself much more retired than when 
free from critical observation. The sharp-eyed Paul, on noticing 
this sudden change in Peter's habits, immediately attacked him 
with his characteristic boldness, charging him with unworthy dis- 
simulation, in thus accommodating his behavior to the whims of 
these sticklers for Judaical strictness of manners. The common 
supposition has been, that Peter was here wholly in the wrong, 
and Paul wholly in the right : a conclusion by no means justified 
by what is known of the facts, and of the characters of the per- 
sons concerned. Peter was a much older man than Paul, and 
much more disposed by his cooler blood, to prudent and careful 
measures. His long personal intercourse with Jesus himself, also 
gave him a great advantage over Paul, in judging of what would 
be the conduct in such a case most conformable to the spirit of 
his divine Master ; nor was his behavior marked by anything dis- 
cordant with real honesty. The precept of Christ was, '" Be' wise 
as serpents;" and a mere desire to avoid offending an over-scrupu- 
lous brother in a trifling matter, implied no more wariness than 
that divine maxim inculcated, and was, moreover, in the spirit of 
what Paul himself enjoined in very similar cases, in advising to 
avoid " offending a brother by eating meat which had been offered 
in sacrifice to idols." There is no scriptural authority to favor 
the opinion that Peter ever acknowledged he was wrong ; for all 
that Paul says is — ' : I rebuked him/'— but he does not say what 
effect it had on one who was an older and wiser man than his 
reprover, and quite as likely to be guided by the spirit of truth. 
It is probable, however, that Peter had something to say for him- 
self; since it is quite discordant with all common ideas, to suppose, 
that a great apostle would, in the face of those who looked up to 
him as a source of eternal truth, act a part which implied an un- 
justifiable practical falsehood. After all, the difference seems to 
have been on a point of very trifling importance, connected 
merely with the ceremonials of familiar intercourse, between in- 
dividuals of nations widely different in manners, habits, prejudi- 
ces, and the whole tenor of their feelings, as far as country, lan- 
guage and education, would affect them ; and a fair consideration 

31 



236 



PETER'S AFOSTLESHIF, 



of the Avhole difficulty, by modern ethical standards, will do much 
to justify Peter in a course designed to avoid unnecessary occa- 
sions of quarrel, until the slow operations of time should have 
worn away all these national prejudices, — the rigid sticklers qui- 
etly accommodating themselves to the neglect of ceremonies, 
which experience would prove perfectly impracticable among 
those professing the free faith of Christ. 

HIS RESIDENCE IN BABYLON. 

The first epistle of Peter contains at the close a general salu- 
tation from the church in Babylon, to the Christians of Asia Mi- 
nor, to whom it was addressed. From this, the unquestioned 
inference is, that Peter was in that city when he wrote. The 
only point mooted is, whether the place meant by this name 
was Babylon on the Euphrates, or some other city commonly de- 
signated by that name. The most irrational conjecture on the 
subject, and yet the one which has found most supporters, is, that 
this name is there used in a spiritual or metaphorical sense for 
Rome, whose conquests, wide dominion, idolatries, and tyranny 
over the worshipers of the true God, were considered as assimi- 
lating it to the ancient capital of the eastern world. But, in re- 
ference to such an unparalleled instance of useless allegory, in a 
sober message from one church to a number of others, serving as 
a convenient date for a letter, it should be remembered that at that 
time there were at least two distinct, important places, bearing 
the name of Babylon,— so well known throughout the east, that 
the simple mention of the name would at once suggest to a com- 
mon reader, one of these as the place seriously meant. One of 
these was that which stood on the site of the ancient Chaldean 
Babylon, a place of great resort to the Jews, finally becoming to 
them, after the destruction of Jerusalem, a great city of refuge, 
and one of the two great capitals of the Hebrew faith, sharing 
only with Tiberias the honors of its literary and religious pre- 
eminence. Even before that, however, as early as the time of 
Peter, it was a city of great importance and interest in a religious 
point of view, offering a most ample and desirable field for the 
labors of the chief apostle, now advancing in years, and whose 
whole genius, feelings, religious education and national peculi- 
arities, qualified him as eminently for this oriental scene of labor, 
as those of Paul fitted him for the triumphant advancement of 
the Christian faith among the polished and energetic races of the 
mighty west. Here, then, it seems reasonable and pleasant to im- 



239 

agine, that in this glorious " clime of the east," — away from the 
bloody strife between tyranny and faction, that distracted and 
desolated the once blessed land of Israel's heritage, during the 
brief delay of its awful doom,— among the scenes of that ancient 
captivity, in which the mourning sons of Zion had drawn high 
consolation and lasting support from the same word of prophe- 
cy, which the march of time in its solemn fulfilments had since 
made the faithful history of God's believing people, — here the 
chief apostle calmly passed the slow decline of his lengthened 
years. High associations of historical and religious interest gave 
all around him a holy character. He sat amid the ruins of em- 
pires, the scattered wrecks of ages, — still in their dreary desolation 
attesting the surety of the word of God. From the lonely waste, 
mounded with the dust of twenty-three centuries, came the solemn 
witness of the truth of the Hebrew seers, who sung, over the 
highest glories of that plain in its brightest days, the long-fore- 
doomed ruin that at last overswept it with such blighting desola- 
tion. Here, mighty visions of the destiny of worlds, the rise and 
fall of empire, rose on the view of Daniel and Ezekiel, whose 
prophetic scope, on this vast stage of dominion, expanded far be- 
yond the narrow limits that bounded all the future in the eyes of 
the sublimest of those prophets, whose whole ideas of what was great 
were taken from the little world of Palestine. Like them, too, 
the apostolic chief lifted his aged eyes above the paltry commo- 
tions and troubles of his own land and times, and glanced far 
over all, to the scenes of distant ages, — to the broad view of the 
spiritual consummation of events, — to the final triumphs of a true 
and pure faith, — to the achievement of the world's destiny, 

Babylon. — The great Sir John David Michaelis enters with the most satisfactory 
fullness into the discussion of this locality ;— with more fullness, indeed, than my 
crowded limits will allow me to do justice to ; so that I must refer my reader to his 
Introduction to the N. T., (chap, xxvii. §4, 5,) whefe ample statements may be found 
by those who wish to satisfy themselves of the justice of my conclusion about the 
place from which this epistle was written. He very ably exposes the extraordinary 
absurdity of the opinion that this date was given in a mystical sense, at a time when 
the ancient Babylon, on the Euphrates, was still in existence, as well as a city on the 
Tigris, Seleucia, to which the name of modern Babylon was given. And he might 
have added, that there was still another of this name in Egypt, not far from the great 
Memphis, which has, by Pearson and others, been earnestly defended as the Babylon 
from which Peter wrote. Michaelis observes, that through some mistake it has been 
supposed, that the ancient Babylon, in the time of Peter, was no longer in being ; 
and it is true that in comparison with its original splendor, it might be called, even 
in the first century, a desolated city ; yet it was not wholly a heap of ruins, nor des- 
titute of inhabitants. This appears from the account which Strabo, who lived in the 
time of Tiberius, has given of it. This great geographer compares Babylon to Seleu- 
cia, saying, " At present Babylon is not so great as Seleucia," which was then the 
capital of the Parthian empire, and, according to Pliny, contained six hundred thou- 



240 peter's apostleship. 

sand inhabitants. The acute Michaelis humorously remarks, that " to conclude- 
that Babylon, whence Peter dates his epistle, could not have been the ancient Baby- 
lon, because this city was in a state of decay, and thence to argue that Peter used the 
word mystically, to denote Rome, is about the same as if, on the receipt of a letter da- 
ted from Ghent or Antwerp, in which mention was made of a Christian community 
there, I concluded that because these cities are no longer what they were in the six- 
teenth century, the writer of the epistle meant a spiritual Ghent or Antwerp, and that 
the epistle was really written from Amsterdam." And in the next section he gives 
a similar illustration of this amusing absurdity, equally apt and happy, drawn in the 
same manner from modern places about him, (for Goettingen was the residence of the 
immortal professor.) " The plain language of epistolary writing does not admit of 
figures of poetry ; and though it would be very allowable in a poem, written in honor 
oi Goettingen, to style it another Athens, yet if a professor of this university should, 
in a letter written from Goettingen, date it Athens, it would be a greater piece of pe- 
dantry than any learned man was ever yet guilty of. In like manner, though a figura- 
tive use of the word Babylon is not unsuitable to the animated and poetical language 
of the Apocalypse, yet in a plain and unadorned epistle, Peter would hardly have 
called the place whence he wrote, by any other appellation than that which literally 
and properly belonged to it." (Michaelis Int. N. T., Marsh's translation, chapter 
xxvii. § 4, 5.) 

The most zealous defender of this mere popish notion of a mystical Babylon, is, 
alas ! a Protestant. The best argument ever made out in its defense, is that by Lard- 
ner, who in his account of Peter's epistles, (Hist, of Apost. & Evang. chap. xix. § 3,) 
does his utmost to maintain the mystical sense, and may be well referred to as giving 
the best possible defense of this view. But the course of Lardner r s great work having 
led him, on all occasions, to make the most of the testimonies of the fathers, in con- 
nection with the establishment of the credibility of the gospel history, he seems to 
have been unable to shake off this reverence of every thing which came on authority 
as old as Augustin ; and his critical judgment on the traditionary history of Christian- 
ity is therefore worth very little. Any one who wishes to see all his truly elaborate 
and learned arguments fairly met, may find this done by a mind of far greater orig- 
inality, critical acuteness and biblical knowledge, (if not equal in acquaintance with 
the fathers,) and by a far sounder judgment, in Michaelis, as above quoted, who has 
put an end to all dispute on these points, by his presentation of the truth. So well- 
settled is this ground now,, that we find in the theology of Romish writers most satis- 
factory refutations of an error, so convenient for the support of Romish supremacy. 
The learned Hug (pronounced very nearly like " Hookh ,-" u sounded as in bu\l, and 
& strongly aspirated) may here be referred to for the latest defense of the common 
sense view. (Introd. vol. II. § 165.; In answer to the notion of an Egyptian Baby- 
lon, he gives us help not to be found in Michaelis, who makes no mention of this view. 
Lardner also quotes from Strabo what sufficiently shows, that this Babylon was 
no town of importance, but a mere military station for one of the three Roman le- 
gions which guarded Egypt. 

The only other place that could in any way be proposed as the Bab} r lon of Pe- 
ter, is Seleucia on the Tigris ; but Michaelis has abundantly shown that though 
in poetical usage in that age, and in common usage afterwards, this city was called 
Babylon, yet in Peter's time, grave prose statements would imply the ancient city 
and not this. He also quotes a highly illustrative passage from Josephus, in defense 
of his views; and which is of so much the more importance because Josephus was a 
historian who lived in the same age with Peter, and the passage itself relates to an 
event which took place thirty-six years before the Christian era ; namely, " the deliv- 
ery of Hyrcanus, the Jewish high priest, from imprisonment, with permission to re- 
side in Babylon, where there was a considerable number of Jews." (Joseph. Antiq. 
XV. ii. 2.) Josephus adds, that " both the Jews in Babylon and all who dwelt in that 
country, respected Hyrcanus as high priest and king." That this was the ancient 
Babylon and not Seleucia, appears from the fact, that wherever else he mentions the 
latter city, he calls it Seleucia. 

Wetstein's supposition that Peter meant the province of Babylon, being suggested 
only by the belief that the ancient Babylon did not then exist, is, of course, rendered 
entirely unnecessary by the proof of its existence. 

Besides the great names mentioned above, as authorities for the view which I have 
taken, I may refer also to Beza, Lightfoof, Basnage, Beausobre, and even Cave, m 
spite of his love of Romish fables. 



peter's apostles it if. 24 i 

To give a complete account of all the views of ..the passage referring to Babylon, 
(1 Pet. v. 13,) I should also mention that of Pott, (on the calh. epist.,) mentioned by 
Hug. This is that by the phrase in the Greek, 'v tv Ba,GtAum cweK\eKT> 7 , is. meant 
"the woman chosen with him in Babylon," that is, Peter's wife ; as if he wished to 
say, " my wife, who is in Babylon, salutes you ;" and Pott concludes that the apostle 
himself was somewhere else at the time. For the answer to this notion, I refer the 
critical to Hug. This same notion had been before advanced by Mill, Wall, and 
Heumann, and refuted by Lardner. (Supp. xix. 5.) 

HIS FIRST EPISTLE. 

Inspired by such associations and remembrances, and by the spirit 
of simple truth and sincerity, Peter wrote his first epistle, which he 
directed to his Jewish brethren in several sections of Asia Minor, 
who had probably been brought under his ministry only in Jeru- 
salem, on their visits there in attendance on the great annual feasts, 
which in all years, as in that of the Pentecost on which the Spirit 
was outpoured, came up to the Holy city to worship ; for there is 
no jn-oof whatever, that Peter ever visited those countries to 
which he sent this letter. The character of the evidence offered, 
has been already mentioned. These believers in Christ had, du- 
ring their annual visits to Jerusalem for many years, been in the 
habit of seeing there this venerable apostolic chief, and of hearing 
from his lips the gospel truth. But the changes of events having 
made it necessary for him to depart from Jerusalem to the peace- 
ful lands of the east, the annual visitors of the Holy city from the 
west, no longer enjoyed the presence and the spoken words of this 
greatest teacher. To console them for this loss, and to supply 
that spiritual instruction which seemed most needful to them in 
their immediate circumstances, he now wrote to them this epistle ; 
the main purport of which seems to be, to inspire them with cou- 
rage and consolation, under some weight of general suffering, then 
endured by them or impending over them. Indeed, the whole 
scope of the epistle bears most manifestly on this one particular 
point, — the preparation of its readers, the Christian communities of 
Asia Minor, for heavy sufferings. It is not, to be sure, without 
many moral instructions, valuable in a mere general bearing, but 
all therein given have a peculiar force in reference to the solemn 
preparation for the endurance of calamities, soon to fall on them. 
The earnest exhortations which it contains, urging them to main- 
tain a pure conscience, to refute the calumnies of time by inno- 
cence, — to show respect for the magistracy, — to unite in so much 
the greater love and fidelity, — with many others, are all evidently 
intended to provide them with the virtues which would sustain 
them under the fearful doom then threatening them. In the pur- 



242 



PETER'S APOSTLESHIP. 



suance of the same great design, the apostle calls their attention 
with peculiar earnestness to the bright example of Jesus Christ, 
whose behavior in suffering was now held up to them as a model 
and guide in their afflictions. With this noble pattern in view, 
the apostle calls on them to go on in their blameless way, in spite 
of all that affliction might throw in the path of duty. 

No proof that he ever visited them. — The learned Hug, truly catholic (but not papist- 
ical) in his views of these points, though connected with the' Roman church, has hon- 
estly taken his stand against the foolish inventions on which so much time has been 
spent above. He says, " Peter had not seen the Asiatic provinces ; the}' were situa- 
ted in the circuit of Paul's department, who had traveled through them, instructed 
ihem, and even at a distance, and in prison, did not lose sight of them.' 5 (As witness 
his epistles to the Galatians, Ephesians, and Colossians, all which are comprehended 
within the circle to which Peter wrote.) He was acquainted with theii mode of life, 
foibles, virtues and imperfections ; their whole condition, and the manner in which 
they ought to be treated." The learned writer, however, does not seem to have fully 
appreciated Peter's numerous and continual opportunities for personal communica- 
tions with these converts at Jerusalem. In the brief allusion made in Acts ii. 9, 10, 
to the foreign Jews visiting Jerusalem at the pentecost, three of the very countries to 
which Peter writes, " Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia," are commemorated with other 
neighboring regions, " Phrygia and Pamphylia." Hug goes on, however, to trace 
several striking and interesting coincidenceshietween this episile and those of Paul 
to the Ephesians, to the Colossians and to Timothy, all which were directed to this 
region. (Hug's introduction to N. T., volume Tl. §160.) He observes that " Peter is 
so far from denying his acquaintance with the epistles of Paul, that he even in ex- 
press terms refers his readers to these compositions of his 'beloved brother,' (2 Pe- 
ter iii. 15.) and recommends them to them." Hug, also, in the succeeding section, 
(§ 161,) points out some still more remarkable coincidences between this and the 
epistle of James, which, in several passages, are exactly uniform. As 1 Pet. i. 6, 7, 
and James i. 2 : — 1 Pet. i. 24, and James i. 10 : — 1 Pet. v. 5, 6, and James iv. 6 — 10. 
Asia. — It must be understood that there are three totally distinct applications of 
this name ; and without a remembrance of the fact, the whole subject will be in an in- 
extricable confusion. In modern geography, as is well known, it is applied to all 
that part of the eastern continent which is bounded west by Europe and Africa, and 
south by the Indian ocean. It is also applied sometimes under the limitation of" Mi- 
nor," or " Lesser," to that part of Great Asia, which lies between the Mediterrnnean 
and the Black sea. But in this passage it is not used in either of these extended senses. 
It is confined to that very narrow section of the eastern coast of the Aegean sea, 
which stretches from the Caicus to the Meander, including but a few miles of territory 
inland, in which were the seven cities to which John wrote in the Apocalypse. The 
same tract also bore the name of Maeonia. Asia Minor, in the modern sense of the 
term, is also frequently alluded to in Acts, but no where else in the N. T. unless we 
adopt Griesbach's reading of Rom. xvi. 5, (Asia instead of Achaia.) 

In the outset of his address, he greets them as " strangers" in 
all the various lands throughout which they were " scattered/' — 
bearing every where the stamp of a peculiar people, foreign in 
manners, principles and in conduct, to the indigenous races of the 
regions in which they had made their home, yet sharing, at the 
same time, the sorrows and the glories of the doomed nation from 
which they drew their origin, — a chosen, an "elect" order of peo- 
ple, prepared in the counsels of God for a high and holy destiny, 
by the consecrating influence of a spirit of truth. Pointing them 
to that hope of an unchanging, undefiled. unfading heritage in 



Peter's apostleship. 243 

the heavens, above the temporary sorrows of the earth, he teaches 
them to find in that, the consolation needful in their various tri- 
als. These trials, in various parts of his work, he speaks of as 
inevitable and dreadful, — yet appointed by the decrees of God 
himself as a fiery test, beginning its judgments, indeed, in his own 
household, but ending in a vastly more awful doom on those who 
had not the support and safety of obedience to his warning word 
of truth. All these things are said by way of premonition, to 
put them on their guard against the onset of approaching evil, 
lest they should think it strange that a dispensation so cruel should 
visit them ; when, in reality, it was an occasion for joy, that they 
should thus be made, in suffering, partakers of the glory of Christ, 
won in like manner. He moreover warns them to keep a con- 
stant watch over their conduct, to be prudent and careful, because 
" the accusing prosecutor" was constantly prowling around them, 
seeking to attack some one of them with his devouring accusa- 
tions. Him they were to meet, with a solid adherence to the 
faith, knowing as they did, that the responsibilities of their reli- 
gious profession were not confined within the narrow circle of 
their own sectional limits, but were shared with their brethren in 
the faith throughout almost the whole world. 

From all these particulars the conclusion is inevitable, that 
there was in the condition of the Christians to whom he wrote, a 
most remarkable crisis just occurring, — one too of no limited or 
local character ; and that throughout Asia Minor and the whole 
empire, a trying time of universal trouble was immediately 
beginning with all who owned the faith of Jesus. The widely 
extended character of the evil, necessarily implies its emanation 
from the supreme power of the empire, which, bounded by no 
provincial limits, would sweep through the world in desolating 
fury on the righteous sufferers ; nor is there any event recorded 
in the history of those ages, which could thus have affected the 
Christian communities, except the first Christian persecution, in 
which Nero, with wanton malice, set the example of cruel, un- 
founded accusation, that soon spread throughout his whole em- 
pire, bringing suffering and death to thousands of faithful be- 
lievers. 

Accusing prosecutor.— The view which Hug takes of the scope of the epistle, throws 
new light on the ,rue meaning of this passage, and abundantly justifies this new trans- 
lation, though none of the great N. T. lexicographers support it. The primary, simple 
senses of the words also, help to justify the usage, as well as their similar force in 
other passages, A reference to any lexicon will show that elsewhere, these words 



244 peter's apostleship. 

bear a meaning accordant with this version. The first noun never occurs in the N. T. 
except in a legal sense. The Greek is 'O avnSucos 'ipv Sia(3o\os } (1 Pet. v. 8.) in which 
the last word (diabolos) need not be construed as a substantive expression, but may be 
made an adjective, belonging to the second word, (antidikos.) The last word, under 
these circumstances, need not necessarily mean " the devil," in any sense ; bat re- 
ferring directly to the simple sense of its primitive, must be made to mean " calum- 
niating," "slanderous," "accusing," — and in connection with the technical, legal 
term, avnSiKos, (whose primary, etymological sense is uniformly a legal one, " the 
plaintiff or prosecutor in a suit at law,") can mean only " the calumniating (or accu- 
sing) prosecutor." The common writers on the epistle, being utterly ignorant of its 
general scope, have failed to apprehend the true force of this expression ; but the 
clear, critical judgment of Rosenmueller, (though he also was without the advantage 
of a knowledge of its history,) led him at once to see the greater justice of the view 
here given ; and he accordingly adopts it, yet not with the definite, technical appli- 
cation of terms justly belonging to the passage. He refers vaguely to others who 
have taken this view, but does not give names. 

The lime wdien this epistle was written is very variously fixed by the different 
writers to whom I have above referred. Lardner dating it at Rome, concludes that 
the time was between A. D. 63 and 65, because he thinks that Peter could not have 
arrived at Rome earlier. This inference depends entirely on what he does not 
prove, — the assertion that by Babylon, in the date, is meant Rome. The proofs of its 
being another place, which I have given above, will therefore require that it should 
have been written before that time, if Peter did then go to Rome. And Michaelis 
seems to ground upon this notion his belief, that it "w^as written either not long be- 
fore, or not long after, the year 60." But the nobly impartial Hug comes to our aid 
again, with the sentence, which, though bearing against a fiction most desirable for 
his church, he unhesitatingly passes on its date. From his admirable detail of the 
contents and design of the epistle, he makes it evident that it was written (from Bab- 
ylon) some years after the time when Peter is commonly said to have gone to Rome, 
never to return. This is the opinion which I have necessarily adopted, after taking 
his view of the design of the epistle. 

Another series of passages in this epistle refers to the remark- 
able fact, that the Christians were at that time suffering under an 
accusation that they were " evil-doers," malefactors, criminals lia- 
ble to the vengeance of the law ; and that this accusation was so 
general, that the name, Christian, was already a term denoting a 
criminal directly liable to this legal vengeance. This certainly 
was a state of things hitherto totally unparalleled in the history 
of the followers of Christ. In all the accounts previously given 
of the nature of the attacks made on them by their enemies, it 
is made to appear that no accusation whatever was sustained or 
even brought against them, in reference to moral or legal offences ; 
but they were always presented in the light of mere religious dis- 
senters and sectaries. At Corinth, the independent and equitable 
Gallio dismissed them from the judgment-seat, with the upright de- 
cision that they were chargeable with no crime whatever. Fe- 
lix and Festus, with king Agrippa II., also, alike esteemed the 
whole procedure against Paul as a mere theological or religious 
affair, relating to doctrines and not to moral actions. At Ephe- 
sus, even me of the high officers of the city did not hesitate to 
declare, in the face of a mob racing against Paul and his com- 



peter's apostleship. 245 

fpanions, that they were innocent of all crime. And even as late 
as the seventh year of Nero, the name of Christian had so little 
of an odious or criminal character, that Agrippa II. did not dis- 
dain to declare himself almost persuaded to assume the name and 
character. And the whole course of their history abundantly 
shows, that so far from the idea of attacking the Christian broth- 
erhood in a mass, as guilty of legal offenses, and making their 
very name nearly synonymous with criminal, no trace whatever 
of such an attack appears, until three years after the last mention- 
ed date, when Nero charged the Christians, as a sect, with his 
own atrocious crime, the dreadful devastation by fire of his own 
capital ; and on this ground, every where instituted a cruel perse- 
cution against them. In connection with this procedure, the 
■Christians are first mentioned in Roman history, as a new and 
peculiar class of people, called Christian^ from their founder, 
Cliristus ; and in reference to this matter, abusive charges are 
brought against them. 

Evil doers.— These passages are in ii. 12, iii. 16, Iv. 15, where the word in Greek 
is KaKOTToiot, (kakopoioi,) which means a malefactor, as is shown in John xviii. 30, 
where the whole point of the remark consists in the fact, that the person spoken of 
was considered an actual violator of known law ; so that the word is evidently lim- 
ited throughout, to those who were criminals in the eye of the law. 

The name Christian denoting a criminal. — This is manifest from iv. 16, where they 
are exhorted to suffer for this alone, and to give no occasion whatever for any other 
criminal accusation. 

A third characteristic of the circumstances of those to whom 
this epistle is addressed, is, that they were obliged to be constantly 
on their guard against accusations, which would expose them to 
capital punishment. They were objects of scorn and obloquy, 
and were to expect to be dragged to trial as thieves, murderers, 
and as wretches conspiring secretly against the public peace and 
safety ; and to all this they were liable in their character as Chris- 
tians. The apostle, therefore, in deep solicitude for the dreadful 
condition and liabilities of his friends, warns those who, in spite 
o£ innocence, are thus made to suffer, to consider all their afflic- 
tions as in accordance with the wise will of God, and, in an up- 
right course of conduct, to commit the keeping of their souls to 
him, as a faithful guardian, who would not allow the permanent 
injury of the souls which he had created. Now, not even a con- 
jecture can be made, much less, any historical proof be brought, that 
beyond Palestine any person had ever yet been made to suffer 
death on the score of religion, or of any stigma attaching to that 
sect, before the time when Nero involved them in the' cruel 



246 



PETERS APOSTLE SHIP, 



charge just mentioned, The date of the first instances of such 
persecutions was the eleventh year of the reign of Nero, under 
the consulships of Caius Lecanius Bassus, and Marcus Licinius 
Crassus, according to the Roman annals. The commencement 
of the burning of Rome, which was the occasion of this first at- 
tack on the Christians, was in the last part of the month of July ; 
but the persecution did not begin immediately. After various 
contrivances to avert the indignation of the people from their im- 
perial destroyer, the Christians were seized as a proper expiatory 
sacrifice, the choice being favored by the general dislike with 
which they were regarded. This attack being deferred for some 
time after the burning, could not have occurred till late in that 
year. The epistle cannot have been written before its occur- 
rence, nor indeed until some time afterwards ; because a few 
months must be allowed for the account of it to spread to the 
provinces of Asia, and it must have been still later when the news 
of the difficulty could reach the apostle, so as to enable him to ap- 
preciate the danger of those Christians who were under the do- 
minion of the Romans. It is evident, then, that the epistle was 
not written in the same year in which the burning occurred; but 
in the subsequent one, the twelfth of Nero's reign, and the sixty- 
fifth of the Christian era. By that time the condition and pros- 
pects of the Christians throughout the empire were such as to 
excite the deepest solicitude in the great apostle, who, though 
himself residing in the great Parthian empire, removed from all 
danger of injury from the Roman emperor, was by no means dis- 
posed to forget the high claims the sufferers had on him for coun- 
sel and consolation. This dreadful event was the most important 
which had ever yet befallen the Christians, and there would cer- 
tainly be just occasion for surprise, if it had called forth no con- 
solatory testimony from the founders of the faith, and if no trace 
of it could be found in the apostolic records. 

Committing the keeping of their s&nls to God. — This view of the design of the epis- 
tle gives new force to this passage, (iv. 19.) 

First mentioned in Roman history. — This is by Tacitus, (Annal. xv. 44,) who thus 
speaks of them:— " Nero condendae urbis novae et cognomento suo appellandae glo- 
riam quaerere, et sic jussum incendium credebatur. Ergo abolendo rumori subdi- 
dit reos, et quaesitissimis poenis affecit, quos per flagitia invisos, vulgus Christianos 
appellabat," &c. — "It was believed that Nero, desirous of building the city anew, and 
of calling it by his surname, had thus caused its burning. To get rid of this general 
impression, therefore, he brought under this accusation, and visited with the most 
exquisite punishments, a set of persons, hateful for their crimes, commonly called 
Christians. The name was derived from Christus, who, in the reign of Tiberius, 
was seized and punished by Pontius Pilate, the procurator. The ruinous superstition, 
though checked for a while, broke out asrain, not only in Judea. the source of the 



PETER'S APOSTLESHIP. 247 

fcvil, but also in the city, (Rome.) Therefore those who professed it were first seized, 
and then, on their confession, a great number of others were convicted, not so much 
on the charge of the arson, as on account of the universal hatred which existed against 
them. And their deaths were made amusing exhibitions, as, being covered with the 
skins of wild beasts, they were torn to pieces by dogs, or were nailed to crosses, or, 
being daubed with combustible stuff, were burned by way of light, in the darkness, 
after the close of day. Nero opened his own gardens for the show, and mingled with 
the lowest part of the throng, on the occasion." (The description of the cruel man- 
ner in which they were burned, may serve as a forcible illustration of the meaning 
of " the fiery trial," to which Peter alludes, iv, 12.) By Suetonius, also, they are brief- 
ly mentioned. (Nero. cap. 15.) "Afflicti suppliciis Christiani, genus hominum super- 
stitionis novae et malcficac?' — " The Christians, a sort of men of a new and perni- 
cious {evil doing) superstition, were visited with punishments," 

That this Neronian persecution was as extensive as is here made to appear, is 
proved by Lardncr and Hug. The former in particular, gives several very interest- 
ing evidences, in his " Heathen testimonies," especially the remarkable inscription 
referring to this persecution, found in Portugal. (Test, of Anc. Heath, chap, iii.) 

From the uniform tone in which the apostle alludes to the dan- 
ger as threatening only his readers, without the slightest allusion 
to the circumstance of his being involved in the difficulty, is 
drawn another important confirmation of the locality of the epis- 
tle. He uniformly uses the second person when referring to tri- 
als, but if he himself had then been so situated as to share in 
the calamity for which he strove to prepare them, he would have 
been very apt to have expressed his own feelings in view of the 
common evil. Paul, in those epistles which were written under 
circumstances of personal distress, is very full of warm expres- 
sions of the state of mind in which he met his trials ; nor was 
there in Peter any lack of the fervid energy that would burst, 
forth in similarly eloquent sympathy, on the like occasions. But 
from Babylon, beyond the bounds of Roman sway, he looked on 
their sufferings only with that pure sympathy which his regard 
for his brethren would excite ; and it is not to be wondered, then, 
that he uses the second person merely, in speaking of their distresses. 
The bearer of this epistle to the distressed Christians of Asia Mi- 
nor, is named Silvanus, generally supposed to be the same with 
Silvanus or Silas, mentioned in Paul's epistles, and in the Acts, 
as the companion of Paul in his journeys through some of those 
provinces to which Peter now wrote. There is great probability 
in this conjecture, nor is there anything that contradicts it in the 
slightest degree ; and it may therefore be considered as true. 
Some other great object may at this time have required his pre- 
sence among them, or he may have been then passing on his jour- 
ney to rejoin Paul, thus executing this commission incidentally. 

This view of the scope and contents of this epistle is taken from Hug, who seems 
to ha ye originated it. At least I can find nothing of it in any other author whom I 
have consulted. Michaelis, for instance, though evidently apprehending the general 



248 peter's apostleship. 

tendency of the epistle, and its design to prepare its readers for the coming of some 
dreadful calamity, was not led thereby to the just apprehension of the historical cir- 
cumstances therewith connected. ~(Hug, II. §§ 162 — 165. — Michaelis Vol. IV. chap, 
xxvii. §§ 1 — 7.) 

THE SECOND EPISTLE. 

After writing the former epistle to the Christians of Asia Mi- 
nor, Peter probably continued to reside in Babylon, since no oc- 
currence is mentioned which conkl draw him away, in his old 
age, from the retired but important field of labor to which he had 
previously confined himself. Still exercising a paternal watch- 
fulness, however, over his distant disciples, his solicitude before 
long again excited him to address them in reference to their spirit- 
ual difficulties and necessities. The apprehensions expressed in 
the former epistle, respecting their maintenance of a pure faith in 
their complicated trials, had in the mean time proved well-ground- 
ed. During the distracting calamities of Nero's persecution, false 
teachers had arisen, who had, by degrees, brought in pernicious 
heresies among them, affecting the very foundations of the faith, 
and ending in the most ruinous consequences to the belief and 
practice of some. This second epistle he wrote, therefore, to stir 
up those who were still pure in heart, to the remembrance of the 
true doctrines of Christianity, as taught by the apostles ; and to 
warn them against the heretical notions that had so fatally spread 
among them. Of the errors complained of, the most important 
seems to have been the denial of the judgment, which had been 
prophesied so long. Solemnly re-assuring them of the certainty 
of that awful series of events, he exhorted them to the steady 
maintenance of such a holy conduct and godly life, as would fit 
them to meet the great change which he so sublimely pictured, 
whenever and however it should occur ; and closed with a most 
solemn charge to beware lest they also should be led away by the 
error of the wicked, so as to fall from their former steadfast ad- 
herence to the truth. In the former part of the epistle he alluded 
affectingly to the nearness of his own end, as an especial reason 
for his urgency with those from whom he was so soon to be 
parted. " I think it meet as long as I am in this tabernacle, to 
stir you up to the remembrance of these things, knowing as I do 
that the putting off of my tabernacle is very near, according to 
what our Lord Jesus Christ made known to me." This is an al- 
lusion to the prophecy of his Master at the meeting on the lake, 
after the resurrection, described in the last chapter of John's gos^ 
pel. " Therefore," writes the aged apostle, " I will be urgent that 



Peter's apostlesiiip. 249 

you, after my departure, may always hold these tilings in your 
memory." All which seems to imply an anticipated death, of 
which he was reminded by the course of natural decay, and by 
the remembrance of the parting prophecy of his Master, and not 
by anything very imminently dangerous or threatening in his ex- 
ternal circumstances, at the time of writing. This was the last 
important work of his adventurous and devoted life ; and his al- 
lusions to the solemn scenes of future judgment were therefore 
most solemnly appropriate. Those to whom he wrote could ex- 
pect to see his face no more, and his whole epistle is in a strain 
accordant with these circumstances, dwelling particularly on the 
awful realities of a coming day of doom. 

The first epistle of Peter has always been received as authentic, 
ever since the apostolic writings were first collected, nor has there 
ever been a single doubt expressed by any theologian, that it was 
what it pretended to be ; but in regard to the epistle just men- 
tioned as his second, and now commonly so received, there has 
been as much earnest discussion as concerning any other book in 
the sacred canon, excepting, perhaps, the epistle to the Hebrews 
and John's Revelation. The weight of historical testimony is; 
certainly rather against its authenticity, since all the early Fathers: 
who explicitly mention it, speak of it as a work of very doubtful 
character. In the first list of the sacred writings that is recorded, 
this is not put among those generally acknowledged as of divine 
authority, but among those whose truth was disputed. Still, quo- 
tations from it are found in the writings of the Fathers, in the 
first, second and third centuries, by whom it is mentioned approv- 
ingly, although not specified as inspired or of divine authori- 
ty. But even as late as the end of the fourth century there 
were still many who denied it to be Peter's, on account of suppo- 
sed differences of style observable between this and the former 
epistle, Avhich was acknowledged to be his. The Syrian Chris- 
tians continued to reject it from their canon for some time after ; for 
in the old Syriac version, executed as early as A. D. 200, this alone, 
of all books that are now considered a part of the New Testa- 
ment, is not contained, though it was regarded by many among 
them as a good book, and is quoted in the writings of one of the 
Syrian Fathers, with respect. After this period, however, these 
objections were soon forgotten, and from the fifth century down- 
wards, it has been universally adopted into the authentic canon, 
and regarded with that reverence which its internal evidences of 



250 



P E T E R S A P S T i a E S H T P. 



truth and genuineness so amply justify. Indeed, it is on its in 
ternal evidence, almost entirely, that its great defense must be 
founded, — since the historical testimonies, (by common confession 
of theologians,) will not afford that satisfaction to the investiga- 
tor, which is desirable on subjects of this nature ; and though 
ancient usage and its long-established possession of a place in 
the inspired code may be called up in its support, still there will 
be occasion for the aid of internal reasons, to maintain a positive 
decision as to its authenticity. And this sort of evidence, an ex- 
amination by the rigid standards of modern critical theology" 
proves abundantly sufficient for the effort to which it is summon- 
ed ; for though it has been said, that since the ancients themselves 
were in doubt, the moderns cannot expect to arrive at certainty, 
because it is impossible to get more historical information on the 
subject, in the nineteenth century, than ecclesiastical writers had 
within reach in the third and fourth centuries ; still, when the ques- 
tion of the authenticity of the work is to be decided by an exam- 
ination of its contents, the means of ascertaining the truth are by 
no means proportioned to the antiquity of the criticism. In the 
early ages of Christianity, the science of faithfully investigating 
truth hardly had an existence ; and such has been the progress of 
improvement in this department of knowledge, under the labors 
of modern theologians, that the writers of the nineteenth century 
may justly be considered as possessed of far more extensive and 
certain means of settling the character of this epistle by internal 
evidence, than were within the knowledge of those Christian fa- 
thers who lived fourteen hundred years ago. The great objection 
against the epistle in the fourth century, was an alleged dissimi- 
larity of style between this and the former epistle. Now, there 
can be no doubt whatever that modern Biblical scholars have 
vastly greater means for judging of a rhetorical question of this 
kind, than the Christian fathers of the fourth century, of whom 
those who were Grecians were really less scientifically acquaint- 
ed with their own language, and no more qualified for a compari- 
son of this kind, than those who live in an age when the princi- 
ples of criticism are so much better understood. With all these 
superior lights, the results of the most accurate modern investiga- 
tions have been decidedly favorable to the authenticity of the 
second epistle ascribed to Peter, and the most rigid comparisons 
of its style with that of the former, have brought out proofs tri- 
umphantly satisfactory of its identity of origin with that,— proofs 



peter's aposTleship. 25i 

so much the more unquestionable; as they are borrowed from co- 
incidences which must have been entirely natural and incidental, 
and not the result of any deliberate collusion. 

This account of the second epistle is also taken from Hug and Michaelis, to whom, 
with Lardner, reference may be made for the details of all the arguments for and 
against its authenticity. 

As to the place and time of writing this epistle, it seems quite 
probable that it was written where the former one was, since there 
is no account or hint whatever of any change in Peter's external 
circumstances ; and that it was written some months after it, is un- 
questionable, since its whole tenor requires such a period to have 
intervened, as would allow the first to reach them and be read by 
them, and also for the apostle to learn in the course of time the 
effects ultimately produced by it, and to hear of the rise of new 
difficulties, requiring new apostolical interference and counsel. 
The first seems to have been directed mainly to those who were 
complete Jews, by birth or by proselytism, as appears from the 
terms in which he repeatedly addresses them in it ; but the sort 
of errors complained of in this epistle seem to have been so ex- 
clusively characteristic of Gentile converts, that it must have 
been written more particularly with reference to difficulties in 
that part of the religious communities of those regions. He con- 
demns and refutes certain heretics who rejected some of the fun- 
damental truths of the Mosaic law,— errors which no well-trained 
Jew could ever be supposed to make, but which in motley as- 
semblages of different races, like the Christian churches, might 
naturally enough arise among those Gentiles, who felt impatient 
at the inferiority in which they seemed implicated by their igno- 
rance of the doctrines of the Jewish theology, in which their 
circumcised brethren were so fully versed. It seems to have 
been more especially aimed at the rising sect of the Gnostics, who 
are known to have been heretical on some of the very points here 
alluded to. Its great similarity, in some passages, to the epistle of 
Jude, will make it the subject of allusion again in the life of that 
apostle. 

HIS DEATH. 

Henceforth the writings of the New Testament are entirely si- 
lent as to the chief apostle. Not a hint is given of the few re- 
maining actions of his life, nor of the mode, place, or time of his 
death ; and all these concluding points have been left to be settled 
by conjecture, or by tradition as baseless. The only passage 



252 peter's apostleship. 

which has been supposed to give any hint of the manner of his 
death, is that in the last chapter of John's gospel. " Jesus says 
to him — ' I most solemnly tell thee, when thou wast young, thou 
didst gird thyself and walk whither thou wouldst "; but when 
thou shalt be old, another shall gird thee, and carry thee whither 
thou wouldst not.' This he said, to make known by what sort 
of death he should glorify God." It has been commonly said that 
this is a distinct and unquestionable prophecy that he should in 
his old age be crucified, — the expression, " another shall gird thee 
and carry thee whither thou wouldst not,"* referring to his being 
bound to the cross and borne away to execution, since this was 
the only sort of death by which an apostle could be said, with 
much propriety or force, to glorify God. And the long-estab- 
lished authority of tradition coinciding with this view, or rather, 
suggesting it, no very minute examination into the sense of the 
passage has ever been made. But the words themselves are by no 
means decisive. Take a common reader, who has never heard 
that Peter was crucified, and it would be hard for him to make 
out such a circumstance from the bare prophecy as given by John. 
Indeed, such unbiased impressions of the sense of the passage 
will go far to justify the conclusion that the words imply nothing 
but that Peter was destined to pass a long life in the service of his 
Master, — that he should after having worn out his bodily and 
mental energies in his devoted exertions, attain such an extreme 
decrepid old age as to lose the power of voluntary motion, and 
die thus,— at least without necessarily implying any bloody martyr- 
dom. Will it be said that by such a quiet death he could not be con- 
sidered as glorifying God ? The objection surely is founded in a 
misapprehension of the nature of those demonstrations of devotion, 
by which the glory of God is most effectually secured. There 
are other modes of martyrdom than the dungeon, the sword, the 
axe, the flame, and the stone ; and in all ages since Peter, there 
have been thousands of martyrs who have, by lives steadily and 
quietly devoted to the cause of truth, no less glorified God, than 
those who were rapt to heaven in flame, in blood, and in tortures 
inflicted by a malignant persecution. Was not God truly glo- 
rified in the deaths of the aged Xavier, and Eliot, and Swartz, or 
the bright, early exits of Brainerd, Mills, Martyn, Parsons, Fisk, and 
hundreds whom the apostolic spirit of modern missions has sent 
forth to labors as devoted, and to deaths as glorious to God, as 
those of any who swell the deified lists of the ancient martyrolo- 



peter's apostleship. 253 

gies I The whole notion of a bloody martyrdom as an essential ter- 
mination to the life of a saint, grew out of a papistical supersti- 
tion ; nor need the enlightened minds of those who can better ap- 
preciate the manner in which God's highest glory is secured by 
the lives and deaths of his servants, seek any such superfluous 
aids to crown the mighty course of the great apostolic chief, 
whose solid claims to the name and honors of Martyr rest on high- 
er grounds than so insignificant an accident as the manner of 
iiis death. All those writers who pretend to particularize the 
mode of his departure,- connect it also with the utterly impossible 
fiction of his residence at Rome, on which enough has been al- 
ready said. Who will undertake to say, out of such a mass of 
matters, what is truth and what is falsehood ? And if the views 
above given, on the high authority of the latest writers of even 
the Romish church, are of any value for any purpose what- 
ever, they are perfectly decisive against the notion of Peter's mar- 
tyrdom at Rome, in the persecution under Nero, since Peter was 
then in Babylon, far beyond the vengeance of the Caesar ; nor 
was he so foolish as ever after to have trusted himself in the reach 
of a perfectly unnecessary danger. The command of Christ was, 
" When you are persecuted in one city, flee into another," — the 
necessary and unquestionable inference from which, was, that when 
out of the reach of persecution they should not wilfully go into 
it. This is a simple principle of Christian action, with which pa- 
pist fable-mongers were totally unacquainted, and they thereby 
afford the most satisfactory proof of the utter falsity of the actions 
and motives which they ascribe to the apostles. One of these sto- 
ries thus disproved is connected with another adventure with that 
useful character, Simon Magus, who, as the tale runs, after being 
first vanquished so thoroughly by Peter in the reign of Claudius, 
returned to Rome, in the reign of Nero, and made such progress 
again in his magical tricks, as to rise into the highest favor with 
this emperor, as he had with the former. This of course required 
a new effort from Peter, which ended in the disgrace and death 
of the magician, who, attempting to fly through the air in the 
presence of the emperor and people in the theater, was by the 
prayer of Peter caused to fall from his aspiring course, to the 
ground, by which he was so much injured as to die soon after. 
The emperor being provoked at the loss of his favorite, turned 
all his wrath against the apostle who had been directly instru- 
mental in his ruin, and imprisoned him with the design of executing 

33 



254 Peter's apost'leshii-', 

him as soon as might be convenient. While in these circum- 
stances, or as others say, before he was imprisoned, he was ear- 
nestly exhorted by the disciples in Rome, to make his escape. He 
accordingly, though very desirous of being killed, (a most abomin- 
ably irreligious wish, by the way,) began to move off, one dark 
night ; but had hardly got beyond the walls of the city, — indeed he 
was just passing out of the gate-way,— when, whom should he meet 
but Jesus Christ himself, coming towards Rome. Peter asked, 
with some reasonable surprise, "Lord! where are you going?" 
Christ answered, " I am coming to Rome, to be crucified again.'! 
Peter at once took this as a hint that he ought to have stayed, 
and that Christ meant to be crucified again in the crucifixion of 
his apostle. He accordingly turned right about, and went back in- 
to the city, .where, having given to the wondering brethren an ac- 
count of the reasons of his return, he was immediately seized, and 
was crucified, to the glory of God. Now it is a sufficient answer 
to this or any similar fable, to judge the blasphemous inventor out 
of his own mouth, and out of the instructions given by Christ 
himself to his servants, for their conduct, in all cases where they 
were threatened with persecution, as above quoted, 

Referring to his being bound to the cross. — Tertullian seems to have first suggested 
this rather whimsical interpretation:—" Tunc Petrus ab altero cingitur, quum cruci 
adstringitur." (Tertull. Scorpiac. 15.) There seems to be more rhyme than reason 
in the sentence, however. 

The rejection of this forced interpretation is by no means a new notion. The crit- 
ical Tremellius long ago maintained that the verse had no reference whatever to a 
prophecy of Peter's crucifixion, though he probably had no idea of denying that Pe- 
ter did actually die by crucifixion. Among more modern commentators too, the 
prince of critics, Kuinoel, with whom are quoted Semler, Gurlitt and Schott, ut- 
terly deny that a fair construction of the original will allow any prophetical idea to 
be based on it. The critical testimony of these great commentators on the true and 
just force of the words, is of the v r ery highest value; because all received the tale 
of Peter's crucifixion as true, having never examined the authority of the tradition, 
and not one of them pretended to deny that he really was crucified. But in spite of 
this pre-conceived erroneous historical notion, their nice sense of what was grammat- 
ically and critically just, would not allow them to pervert the passage to the support 
of this long-established view ; and they therefore pronounce it as merely expressive 
of the helplessness and imbecility of extreme old age, with which the)' make every 
word coincide. But Bloomfield, entirely carried away with the tide of antique au- 
thorities, is " surprised that so many recent commentators should deny that crucifix- 
ion is here alluded to, though they acknowledge that Peter suffered crucifixion." 
Now this last circumstance might well occasion surprise, as it certainly did in me, 
when I found what mighty names had so disinterestedly supported the interpretation 
which I had with fear and trembling adopted, in obedience to my own long-estab- 
lished, unaided convictions ; but my surprise was of a decidedly agreeable sort. 

The inventors of fables go on to give us the minute particu- 
lars of Peter's death, and especially note the circumstance that he 
was crucified with his head downwards and his feet uppermost, 
he himself having desired that it might be done in that manner. 



PETER'S APOSTLESHIP. 255 

because he thought himself unworthy to he crucified as his Mas- 
ter was. This was a mode sometimes adopted by the Romans, 
as an additional pain and ignominy. But Peter must have been 
singularly accommodating to his persecutors, to have suggested 
this improvement upon his tortures to his malignant murderers ; 
and must have manifested a spirit more accordant with that of a 
savage defying his enemies to increase his agonies, than with that 
of the mild, submissive Jesus. And such has been the evident ab- 
surdity of the story, that many of the most ardent receivers of fa- 
bles have rejected this circumstance as improbable, more especial- 
ly as it is not found among the earliest stories of his crucifixion, 
but evidently seems to have been appended among later improve- 
ments. 

peter 1 s martyrdom. 

The only authority which can be esteemed worthy of consideration on this point, 
is that of Clemens Romanus, who, in the latter part of the first century, (about the 
year 70, or as others say, 96,) in his epistle to the Corinthians, uses these words res- 
pecting Peter : — " Peter, on account of unrighteous hatred, underwent not one, or two, 
but many labors, and having thus borne his testimony, departed to the place of glory, 
which Was his due," — ('oura>? [xapTvprjaag i-koqzvSy) ug rov (HptiKopzvov tottov <5o|>jj.) Now it is 
by no means certain that the prominent word (marturesas) necessarily means " bear- 
ing testimony by death," or martyrdom in the modern sense. The primary sense of 
this verb is merely " to witness" in which simple meaning alone, it is used in the New 
Testament ; nor can any passage in the sacred writings be shown, in which this verb 
means " to bear witness to any cause, by death." This was a technicalsen.se, (if I may 
so name it,) which the word at last acquired among the Fathers, when they were 
speaking of those who bore witness to the truth of the gospel of Christ by their blood; 
and it was a meaning which at last nearly excluded all the true original senses of 
the verb, limiting it mainly to the notion of a death by persecution for the sake of 
Christ. Thence our English words, martyr and martyrdom. But that Clement by 
this use of the word, in this connection, meant to convey the idea of Peter's having 
been killed for the sake of Christ, is an opinion utterly incapable of proof, and more- 
over rendered improbable by the words joined to it in the passage. The sentence is, 
*' Peter underwent many labors, and having thus borne witness" to the gospel truth, 
" went to the place of glory which he deserved." Now the adverb " thus," ('ovrwg,) 
seems to me most distinctly to show what was the nature of this testimony, and the 
manner also in which he bore it. It points out more plainly than any other words 
could, the fact that his testimony to the truth of the gospel was borne in the zealous 
labors of a devoted life, and not by the agonies of a bloody death. There is not in the 
whole context, nor in all the writings of Clement, any hint whatever that Peter was 
killed for the sake of the gospel -, and we are therefore required by every sound rule 
of interpretation, to stick to the primary sense of the verb, in this passage. Lardner 
most decidedly mis-translates it in the text of his work, so that any common reader 
would be grossly deceived as to the expression in the original of Clement, — " Peter 
underwent many labors, till at last being martyred, he went," &c. The Greek word, 
'ovTtag, (houtos,) means always, " in this manner," " thus," "■' so," and is not a mere ex- 
pletive, like the English phrase, "and so," which is a mere form of transition from 
one part of the narrative to the other. 

In the similar passage of Clemens which refers to Paul, there is something in the 
connection which may seem to favor the conclusion that he understood Paul to have 
been put to death by the Roman officers. His words are, — " and after having borne 
his testimony before governors, he was thus sent out of the world," &c. Here the word 
" thus," coming after the participle, may perhaps be considered, in view also of its 
other connections, as implying his removal from the world by a violent death, in con- 
sequence of the testimony borne by him before the governors. This however, will 
bear some dispute, and will have a fuller discussion elsewhere. 



256 peter's apostleship. 

But in respect to the passage which refers to Peter, the burden of proof ma}' fairly 
be said to lie on those who maintain the old opinion. Here the word is shown to 
have, in the New Testament, no such application to death as it has since acquired ; 
and the question is whether Clemens Romanus. a man himself of the apostolic age, 
who lived and perhaps wrote, before the canon was completed, had already learned 
to gi T 'e a new meaning to a verb, before so simple and unlimited in its applications. 
No person can pretend to irace this meaning to within a century of the Clementine 
age, nor does Suicer refer to an}" one who knew of such use before CI. Al^xandr. (See 
his Thes. ; Maprvp.) Clement himself uses it in the same epistle (§ xvii.) in its un- 
questionable primary sense, speaking of Abraham as having received an honorable 
testimony, — (epapTvpqSri;) for who will say that Abraham was martyred, in the mod- 
ern sense 1 The fact too that Clement nowhere else gives the least glimmer of a hint 
that Peter died any where but in his bed, fixes the position here taken, beyond all pos- 
sibility of attack, except by its being shown that he uses this verb somewhere else, 
with the sense of death unquestionably attached to it. 

There is no other early writer who can be said to speak of the manner of Peter's 
death, before Dionysius of Corinth, who says that "Peter and Paul having taught in 
Italy together, bore their testimony" (by death, if you please,) " about the same time." 
An argument might here also be sustained on the word t^aprvpiiaav, (emarturesan } \ 
but the evidence of Dionysius, mixed as it is with a demonstrated fable, is not worth 
a verbal criticism. The same may be said of Tertullian and the rest of the later Fa- 
thers, as given in the note on pages '2-28 — "233. 

An examination of the word Map-rvp, in Suicer's Thesaurus Ecclesiasticus, will 
show the critical, that even in later times, this word did not necessarily imply " one 
who bore his testimony to the truth at the sacrifice of life." Even Chrysostom, in 
whose time the peculiar limitation of the term might be supposed to be very well es- 
tablished, uses the word in such applicalions as to show that its original force was not 
wholly lost. By Athanasius too, Shadrach, Meshach and Abed-nego are styled mar- 
tyrs. Gregory Nazianzen also speaks of "living martyrs." (£wvr£? ixaprvpeg.) Theo- 
phylact calls the apostle John a martyr, though he declares him to have passed 
through the hands of his persecutors unhurt, and to have died by the course of nature. 
Clemens Alexandrinus has similar uses of the term; and the Apostolical Constitu- 
tions, of doubtful date, but much later than the first century, also give it in such ap- 
plications. Suicer distinctly specifies several classes of persons, not martyrs in the 
modern sense, to whom the Greek word is nevertheless applied in the writings of even 
the later Fathers ; as " those who testified the truth of the gospel of Christ, at the per- 
il of life merely, without the loss of it," — " those vrho obeyed the requirements of the 
gospel, by restraining passion," &c. In some of these instances however, it is palpa- 
ble that the application of the word to such persons is secondary, and made in rather 
a poetical way. with a reference to the more common meaning of loss of life for the 
sake of Christ, since there is always implied a testimony at the risk or loss of some- 
thing ; still the power of these instances to render doubtful the meaning of the term, 
is unquestionable. (See Suicer's Thes. Ecc. Ma prop III. 2, 5, 6.) 

Perhaps it is hardly worth while to dismiss these fables altogether, without first 
alluding to the rather ancient one. first <nven by Clemens Alexandrinus. (Stromat. 
7. p. 736.) and copied verbatim by Eusebius, (H. E. III. 30.) Both the reverend Fa- 
thers however, introduce the story as a tradition, a mere on dil, prefacing it with the 
expressive phrase, " They say," &c. ($ae?j.) " The blessed Peter seeing his wife led 
to death, was pleased with the honor of her bcins: thus called by God to return home, 
and thus addressed her in words of exhortation and consolation, calling her by name, 
— " O woman ! remember the Lord." The story comes up from the hands of tradi- 
tion rather too late however, to be entitled to any credit whatever, being recorded by 
Clemens Alexandrinus, full 200 years after Christ. It was probably invented in the 
times when it was thought worth while to cherish the spirit of voluntary martyrdom, 
among even the female sex ; for which purpose instances were sought out or invent- 
ed respecting those of the apostolic days. That Peter had a wife is perfectly true ; 
and it is also probable that she accompanied him about on his travels, as would 
appear from a passage in Paul's writings ; (1 Cor. ix. 5 ;) but beyond this, nothing is 
known of her life or death. Similar fables might be endlessly multiplied from pa- 
pistical sources ; more especially from the Clementine novels, and the apostolical ro- 
mances of Abdias Babylonius ; but the object of the present work is true history, and 
it would require a whole volume like this to give all the details of Christian my- 
thology. 



peter's aposteesiiip. 257 

In justification of the certainty with which sentence is pronounced against the 
whole story of Peter's ever having gone to Rome, it is only necessary to refer to the 
decisive argument on pages 228—233, in which the whole array of ancient evidence 
on the point, is given by Dr. Murdoch. If the support of great names is needed, 
ihose of Scah-er, Salmasius, Spanheim, and Bower, all mighty minds in criticism, 
are enough to justify the boldness of the opinion, that Peter never went west of the 
Hellespont, and probably never embarked on the Mediterranean. In conclusion of 
the whole refutation of this long-established error, the matter cannot be more fairly 
presented, than in the words with which the critical and learned Bower opens his 
Lives of the Popes : 

" To avoid being imposed upon, we ought to treat tradition as we do a notorious 
and known liar, to whom we give no credit unless what he says is confirmed to us by 
some person of undoubted veracity. If it is affirmed by him alone, we can at most but 
suspend our belief, not rejecting it as false, because a liar may sometimes speak truth ; 
but we cannot, upon his bare authority, admit it as true. Now that St. Peter was at 
Rome, that he was bishop of Rome, we are told by tradition alone, which, at the 
same time tells us of so many strange circumstances attending his coming to that 
metropolis, his staying in it, his withdrawing from it, &c, that in the opinion of ev- 
ery unprejudiced man, the whole must savor strongly of romance. Thus we are told 
that St. Peter went to Rome chiefly to oppose Simon, the celebrated magician ; that 
at their first interview, at which Nero himself was present, he flew up into the air, 
in the sight of the emperor and the whole city ; but that the devil, who had thus 
raised him, struck with dread and terror at the name of Jesus, whom the apostle 
invoked, let him fall to the ground, by which fall he broke his legs. Should you 
question the truth of this tradition at Rome, they would show you the prints of St. 
Peter's knees in the stone, on which he kneeled on this occasion, and another stone 
still dyed with the blood of the magician. (This account seems to have been bor- 
rowed from Suetonius, who speaks of a person that, in the public sports, undertook 
to fly, in the presence of the emperor Nero ; but on his first attempt, fell to the ground ; 
by Avhich fall his blood sprung out with such violence that it reached the emperor's 
canopy.) 

" The Romans, as we are told, highly incensed against him for thus maiming and 
bringing to disgrace one to whom they paid divine honors, vowed his destruction; 
whereupon the apostle thought it advisable to retire for a while from the city, and 
had already reached the gate, when to his great surprise, he met our Savior coming 
in, as he went out, who, upon St. Peter's asking him where he was going, returned 
this answer : ' / am going to Rome, to be crucified, anew ;' which, as St. Peter under- 
stood it, was upbraiding him with his flight ; whereupon he turned back, and was 
soon after seized by the provoked Romans, and, by an order from the emperor, cru- 
cified." 

Nor do the fables about Peter, by the inveterate papists, cease 
with his death. In regard to the place of his tomb, a new story 
was needed, and it is accordingly given with the usual particularity. 
It is said that he was buried at Rome in the Vatican plain, in the 
district beyond the Tiber, in which he was said to have first 
preached among the Jews, and where stood the great circus of 
Nero, in which the apostle is said to have been crucified. Over 
this bloody spot, a church was afterwards raised, by Constantine 
the Great, who chose for its site part of the ground that had been 
occupied by the circus, and the spaces where the temples of Mars 
and Apollo had stood. The church, though of no great architec- 
tural beauty, was a building of great magnitude, being three hun- 
dred feet long, and more than one hundred and fifty feet wide. 
This building stood nearly twelve hundred years, when becoming 
ruinous in spite of all repairs, it was removed to give place to the 



258 pethr's apostleship. 

present cathedral church of St. Peter, now the most immense and 
magnificent building in the world, — not too much praised in the 
graphic verse in which the pilgrim-poet sets it beyond all com- 
parison with the greatest piles of ancient or modern art : 

<c But lo ! the dome ! the vast and wondrous dome, 

To which Diana's marvel was a cell ; — 

Christ's mighty shrine above his martyr's tomb. — 

1 have beheld the Ephesians' miracle, 

Its columns strew the wilderness, and dwell 

The hyena and the jackall in their shade. 

.1 have beheld Sophia's bright roofs swell 

Their glittering mass in the sun, and have surveyed 

Its sanctuary, while the usurping Moslem prayed. 

" But thou, of temples old, or altars new, 
Standest alone, with nothing like to thee. 
Worthiest of God, the holy and the true ! 
Since Zion's desolation, when that He 
Forsook his former ciiy, what could be 
Of earthly structures in his honor piled, 
Of a sublimer aspect V — 

Within the most holy place of this vast sanctuary, — beneath the 
very center of that wonderful dome, which rises in such unequal- 
ed vastness above it, redounding far more to the glory of the man 
who reared it, than of the God whose altar it covers, — in the 
vaulted crypt which lies below the pavement, is a shrine, before 
which a hundred lamps are constantly burning, and over which 
the prayers of thousands are daily rising. This is called the tomb 
of the saint to whom the whole pile is dedicated, and from whom 
the great high priest of that temple draws his claim to the keys 
of the kingdom of heaven, with the power to bind and loose, and 
the assurance of heaven's sanction on his decrees. But what a 
contrast is all this " pride, pomp and circumstance," to the bare pu- 
rity of the faith and character of the simple man whose life and 
conduct are recorded on these pages ! If any thing whatever may 
be drawn as a well-authorized conclusion from the details that 
have been given of his actions and motives, it is that Simon Peter 
was a " plain, blunt" man, laboring devotedly for the object to 
which he had been called by Jesus, and with no other view what- 
ever, than the advancement of the kingdom of his Master, — the 
inculcation of a pure spiritual faith, which should seek no sup- 
port, nor the slightest aid, from the circumstances which charm the 
eye and ear, and win the soul through the mere delight impressed 
upon the senses, as the idolatrous priests who now claim his name 
and ashes, maintain their dominion in the hearts of millions of 
worse than pagan worshipers. His whole life and labors were 



peter's apostleship. 259 

pointed at the very extirpation of forms and ceremonies, — the erec- 
tion of a pure, rational, spiritual dominion in the hearts of man- 
kind, so that the blessings of a glorious faith, which for two 
thousand years before had been confined to the limits of a cere- 
monial system, might now, disenthralled from all the bonds of 
sense, and exalted above the details of tedious forms, of natural 
distinctions, and of antique rituals, — spread over a field as wide as 
humanity. For this he lived and toiled, and in the clear hope of 
a triumphant fulfilment of that plan, he died. And if, from his 
forgotten, unknown grave, among the ashes of the Chaldean Baby- 
lon, and from the holy rest which is for the blessed, the now glori- 
fied apostle could be called to the renewal of breathing, earthly 
life, and see the results of his energetic, simple-minded devotion, — 
what wonder, what joy, what grief, what glory, what shame, would 
not the revelation of these mighty changes move within him ! 
The simple, pure gospel which he had preached in humblej faith- 
ful obedience to the divine command, without a thought of glory 
or reward, now exalted in the idolatrous reverence of hundreds of 
millions, — hut where appreciated in its simplicity and truth? The 
cross on which his Master was doomed to ignominy, now exalted 
as the sign of salvation, and the seal of God's love to the world ! — 
(a spectacle as strange to a Roman or Jewish eye, as to a modern 
would be the gallows, similarly consecrated,) but who burning 
with that devotion which led him of old to bear that shameful bur- 
den ? His own humble name raised to a place above the bright • 
est of Roman, of Grecian, of Hebrew, or Chaldean story ! but 
made, alas ! the supporter of a tyranny over souls, far more grind- 
ing and remorseless than any which he labored to overthrow. 
The fabled spot of his grave, housed in a temple to which the 
noblest shrine of ancient heathenism " was but a cell !" but in 
which are celebrated, under the sanction of his sainted name, 
the rites of an idolatry, than which that of Rome, or Greece, or 
Egypt would seem more spiritual, — and of tedious, unmeaning cer- 
emonies, compared with which the whole formalities of the Levit- 
ical ritual might be pronounced simple and practical ! 

These would be the first sights that would meet the eye of the 
disentombed apostle, if he should rise over the spot which claims 
the honors of his martyr-tomb, and the consecration of his com- 
mission. How mournfully would he turn from all the mighty 
honors of that idolatrous worship,— from the deified glories of 
that sublimest of shrines that ever rose over the earth ! How 



^OU PETER'S APOSTLESHIP. 

earnestly would he long for the high temple of one humble, pure 
heart, that knew and felt the simplicity of the truth as it was in 
Jesus ! How joyfully would he hail the manifestations of that 
active evangelizing spirit that consecrated and fitted him for his 
great missionary enterprise ! His amazed and grieved soul would 
doubtless here and there feel its new view rewarded, in the sight 
of much that was accordant with the holy feeling that inspired 
the apostolic band. All over Christendom, might he find scat- 
tered the occasional lights of a purer devotion, and on many lands 
he would see the truth pouring, in something of the clear splen- 
dor for which he hoped and labored. But of the countless souls 
that owned Jesus as Lord and Savior, millions on millions, — and 
vast numbers too, even in the lands of a reformed faith, — would be 
found still clinging to the vain support of forms, and names, and 
observances, — and but a few, a precious few, who had learned what 
that means — " I will have mercy and not sacrifice" — works and 
not words, — deeds and not creeds, — high, simple, active, energetic, 
enterprising devotion, and not cloistered reverence, — chanceled 
worship, — or soul-wearying rituals. Would not the apostle, sick- 
ened with the revelations of such a resurrection, and more ap- 
palled than delighted, call on the power that brought him up from 
the peaceful rest of the blessed, to give him again the calm repose 
of those who die in the Lord, rather than the idolatrous honors 
of such an apotheosis, or the strange sight of the results of such 
ah evangelization ?— " Let me enter again the gates of Hades, but 
not the portals of these temples of superstition. Let me lie down 
with the souls of the humble, but not in the shrine of this hea- 
thenish pile. Leave me once more to rest from my labors, with 
my works still following ; and call me not from this repose till the 
labors I left on earth unachieved, have been better done. We did 
not follow these cunningly-devised fables, when we made known 
to men the power and coining of our Lord Jesus Christ, but the 
simple eye-witness story of his majesty. We had a surer word 
of prophecy ; and well would it have been, if these had turned 
their wandering eyes to it, as to a light shining in a dark place, 
and kept that steady beacon in view, through the stormy gloom 
of ages, until the day dawn and the day-star arise in their hearts. 
These are not the new heavens and the new earth, wherein dwell- 
eth righteousness, for which we looked, according to God's prom- 
ise. Those must the faithful still look for, believing that Jeho- 
vah, with whom a thousand years are as one day. is not slack 



P&VER'b APOSTLESHIF, 261 

concerning his promise, but desires all to come to repentance, and 
will come himself at last in the achievment of our labors. Then 
call me." 

What a life was this ! Its earl y recorded events found him a 
poor fisherman, in a rude, despised province, toiling day by day 
in a low, laborious business, — living with hardly a hope above 
the beasts that perish. By the side of that lake, one morning, 
walked a stranger, who, with mild words but wondrous deeds, 
called the poor fisherman to leave all, and follow him. Won by 
the commanding promise of the call, he obeyed, and followed that 
new Master, with high hopes of earthly glory for a while, which 
at last were darkened and crushed in the gradual developments of 
a far deeper plan than his rude mind could at first have appre- 
ciated. But still he followed him, through toils and sorrows, 
through revelations and trials, at last to the sight of his bloody 
cross; and followed him, still unchanged in heart, basely and al- 
most hopelessly wicked. The fairest trial of his virtue proved 
him after all, lazy, bloody-minded, but cowardly,— lying, and ut- 
terly faithless in the promise of new life from the grave. But a 
change came over him. He, so lately a cowardly disowner of his 
Master's name, now, with a courageous martyr-spirit dared the 
wrath of the awful magnates of his nation, in attesting his faith 
in Christ. Once a fierce, brawling, ear-cutting Galilean, — 
henceforth he lived an unresisting subject of abuse, stripes, 
bonds, imprisonment and threatened death. When was there 
ever such a triumph of grace in the heart of man ? The conver- 
sion of Paul himself could not be compared with it, as a moral 
miracle. The apostle of Tarsus was a refined, well-educated 
man, brought up in the great college of the Jewish law, theology 
and literature, and not wholly unacquainted with the Grecian 
writers. The power of a high spiritual faith over such a mind, 
however steeled by prejudice, was not so wonderful as its renova- 
ting, refining and elevating influence on the rude fisherman of 
Bethsaida. Paul was a man of considerable natural genius, and 
he shows it on every page of his writings ; but in Peter there are 
seen few evidences of a mind naturally exalted, and the whole 
tenor of his words and actions seems to imply a character of 
sound common sense, and great energy, but of perceptions and 
powers of expression, great, not so much by inborn genius, as by 
the impulse of a higher spirit within him, gradually bringing him 
to the possession of new faculties, — intellectual as well as moral 

34 



262 peter's apostleship. 

This was the spirit which raised him from the humble task of a 
fisherman, to that of drawing men and nations within the com- 
pass of the gospel, and to a glory which not all the gods of an- 
cient superstition ever attained. 

Most empty honors ! Why hew down the marble mountains, 
and rear them into walls as massive and as lasting ? Why raise 
the solemn arches and the lofty towers to overtop the everlast- 
ing hills with their heavenward heads ? Or lift the skiey dome 
into the middle heaven, almost outswelling the blue vault itself? 
Why task the soul of art for new creations to line the long-drawn 
aisles, and gem the fretted roof ? There is a glory that shall out- 
last all 

" The cloud-capped towers, — the gorgeous palaces, -• 
The solemn temples, — the great globe itself, — 
Yea all whieh it inherits ; ; ' 

— a glory far beyond the brightest things of earth in its brightest 
day ; for " they that be wise shall shine as the firmament, and 
they that turn many to righteousness as the stars, for ever and 
ever." Yet in this the apostle rejoices not ; — not that adoring 
millions lift his name in prayers, and thanksgivings, and songs, 
and incense, from the noblest piles of man's creation, to the glory 
of a God, — not even that over all the earth, in all ages, till the 
perpetual hills shall bow with time, — till " eternity grows gray," 
the pure in heart will yield him the highest human honors of the 
faith, on which nations, continents and worlds hang their hopes 
of salvation ; — he " rejoices not that the spirits" of angels or 
men " are subject to him, — but that his name is written in 



ANDREW, 



HIS AUTHENTIC HISTORY, 

The name of this apostle is here brought in directly after his 
eminent brother, in accordance with the lists of the apostles given 
by Matthew and Luke, in their gospels, where they seem to dis- 
pose them all in pairs ; and very naturally, in this case, prefer family 
affinity as a principle of arrangement, putting together in this 
and the following instances, those who were sons of the same fa- 
ther. The most eminent son of Jonah, deservedly taking the 
highest place on all the lists, his brother might very properly so 
far share in the honors of this distinction, as to be mentioned 
along with him, without any necessary implication of the posses- 
sion of any of that moral and intellectual superiority, on which 
Peter's claim to the first place was grounded. These seem, at 
least, to have been sufficient reasons for Matthew, in arranging the 
apostles, and for Luke in his gospel ; while in his history of the 
Acts of the Apostles he followed a different plan, putting Andrew 
fourth on the list, and giving the sons of Zebedee a place before 
him, as Mark did also. The uniform manner in which James and 
John are mentioned along with Peter on great occasions, to the 
total neglect of Andrew, seems to imply that this apostle was quite 
behind his brother in those excellences which fitted him for the 
leading place in the great Christian enterprise ; since it is most 
reasonable to believe that, if he had possessed faculties of such a 
high order, he would have been readily selected to enjoy with 
him the peculiar privileges of a most intimate personal intercourse 
with Jesus, and to share the high honors of his peculiar revela- 
tions of glory and power. 

The question of the relative age of the two sons of Jonah, has 
been already settled in the beginning of the life of Peter ; and in 
the same part of the work have also been given all the particulars 



264 ANDREW 

about their family, rank, residence, and occupation, which are de- 
sirable for the illustration of the lives and characters of both. So 
too, throughout the whole of the sacred narrative, everything that 
could concern Andrew has been abundantly expressed and com- 
mented on, in the life of Peter. The occasions on which the 
name of this apostle is mentioned in the New Testament, indeed^ 
except in the bare enumeration of the twelve, are only three, — 
his first introduction to Jesus, — his actual call, — and the circum- 
stance of his being present with his brother and the sons of Zeb- 
edee, at the scene on the mount of Olives, when Christ foretold 
the utter ruin of the temple. Of these three scenes, in the first 
only did he perform such a part, as to receive any other than a 
bare mention in the gospel history ; nor even in that solitary cir- 
cumstance does his conduct seem to have been of much impor- 
tance, except as leading his brother to the knowledge of Jesus, 
From this circumstance, however, of his being specified as the 
first of all the twelve who had a personal acquaintance with Je- 
sus, he has been honored by many writers with the distinguishing- 
title of " the first called," although others have claimed the 
dignity of this appellation for another apostle, in whose life the 
particular reasons for such a claim will be mentioned. 

The first called. — In Greek irpwroK^riros, (proioldclos^ by which name he is called 
by Nicephorus Callistus, (E, H. II. 39,) and by several of the Greek Fathers, as 
quoted by Cangius, (Gloss, in voc.) Suicer, however, makes no reference what- 
ever to this term. 

From the minute narrative of the circumstances of the call, 
given by John in the first chapter of his gospel, it appears, thai 
Andrew, excited by the fame of the great Baptizer, had left his 
home at Bethsaida, and gone to Bethabara, (on the same side of the 
Jordan, but farther south,) where the solemn and ardent appeals of 
the bold herald of inspiration so far equalled the expectation awa- 
kened by rumor, that, along with vast multitudes who seem to have 
made but an indifferent progress in religious knowledge, though 
brought to the repentance and confession of their sins, he was 
baptized in the Jordan, and was also attached to the person of the 
great preacher in a peculiar manner, as it would seem, aiming at a 
still more advanced state of indoctrination, than ordinary con- 
verts could be expected to attain. While in this diligent personal 
attendance on his new Master, he was one day standing with him 
upon the banks of the Jordan, the great scene of the mystic sac- 
rament, listening to the incidental instructions which fell from the 
lips of the holy man, in company with another disciple, his coun- 



ANDREW. 265 

tryman and friend. In the midst of the conversation, perhaps, 
while discoursing upon the deep question then in agitation, about 
the advent of the Messiah, suddenly the great preacher exclaimed, 
" Behold the Lamb of God !" The two disciples at once turned 
their eyes towards the person thus solemnly designated as the 
Messiah, and saw walking by them, a stranger, whose demeanor 
was such as to mark him for the object of the Baptizer's apostro- 
phe. With one accord, the two hearers at once left the teacher, 
who had now referred them to a higher source of truth and pu- 
rity, and both followed together the footsteps of the wonderful 
stranger, of whose real character they knew nothing, though their 
curiosity must have been most highly excited, by the solemn mys- 
tery of the words in which his greatness was announced. As 
they hurried after him, the sound of their hasty feet fell on the 
ear of the retiring stranger, who, turning towards his inquiring 
pursuers, mildly met their curious glances with the question, 
" Whom seek ye ?" — thus giving them an opportunity to state 
their wishes for his acquaintance. They eagerly answered by the 
question, implying their desire for a permanent knowledge of him, 
— " Rabbi ! (Master,) where dwellest thou ?" He kindly answered 
them with a polite invitation to accompany him to his lodgings ; 
for there is no reason to believe that they went with him to his 
permanent home in Capernaum or Nazareth ; since Jesus was 
probably then staying at some place near the scene of the bap- 
tism. Being hospitably and familiarly entertained by Jesus, as 
his intimate friends, it being then four o'clock in the afternoon, 
they remained with him till the next day, enjoying a direct per- 
sonal intercourse, which gave them the best opportunities for 
learning his character and his power to impart to them the high 
instructions which they were prepared to expect, by the solemn 
annunciation of the great Baptizer ; and at the same time it shows 
their own earnestness and zeal for acquiring a knowledge of the 
Messiah, as well as his benignant familiarity in thus receiving 
them immediately into such a domestication with him. After this 
protracted interview with Jesus, Andrew seems to have attained 
the most perfect conviction that his newly adopted teacher was all 
that he had been declared to be ; and in the eagerness of a warm 
fraternal affection, he immediately sought his dear brother Simon, 
and exultingly announced to him the great results of his yester- 
day's introduction to the wonderful man ;— " We have found the 
Messiah !" Such a declaration, made with the confidence of one 



266 ANDREW. 

who knew by personal experience, at once secured the attention 
of the no less ardent Simon, and he accordingly gave himself up 
to the guidance of the confident Andrew, who led him directly to 
Jesus, anxious that his beloved brother should also share in the 
high favor of the Messiah's friendship and instruction. This is 
the most remarkable recorded circumstance of Andrew's life ; and 
on his ready adherence to Jesus, and the circumstance that he, 
first of all the disciples, declared him to be the Messiah, may be 
founded a just claim for a most honorable distinction of Andrew. 

Bethabara. — Some of the later critics seem disposed to reject this now common 
reading, and to adopt in its place that of Bethany, which is supported by such a num- 
ber of old manuscripts and versions, as to oifer a strong defense against the word at 
present established. Both the Syriac versions, the Arabic, Aethiopic, the Vulgate, 
and the Saxon, give " Bethany ;" and Origen, from whom the other reading seems to 
have arisen, confesses that the previously established word was Bethany, which he, 
with about as much sense of justice and propriety as could be expected from even 
the most judicious of the Fathers, rejected for the unauthorized Bethabara, on the 
simple ground that there is such a place on the Jordan-, mentioned in Judg. vii. 24, — 
while Bethany is elsewhere in the gospels described as close to Jerusalem, on the 
mount of Olives ; the venerable Father never apprehending the probability of two 
different places bearing the same name, nor referring to the etymology of Bethany, 
which is rVJX JV3 (peth anyak,) " the house (or place) of a boat," equivalent to a " fer- 
ry." (Origen on John, quoted by Wolf) Chrysostom and Epiphanius are also quoted 
by Lampe, as defending this perversion on similar grounds. Heracleon, Noniros 
and Beza are referred to in defense of Bethany ; and among moderns, Mill, Simon 
and others, are quoted by Wolf on the same side. Campbell and Bloornfield also 
defend this view. Scultetus, Grotius and Casaubon, argue in favor of Bethabara. 
Lightfoot makes a long argument to prove thai Bethany, the true reading, means not 
any village or particular spot of that name, but the province or tract, called Bata- 
naea, lying beyond the Jordan, in the northern part of its course, — a conjecture hardly 
supported by the structure of the word, nor by the opinion of any other writer. This 
Bethany beyond the Jordan, seems to have been thus particularized as to position, in 
order to distinguish it from the place of the same name near Jerusalem. Its exact 
situation cannot now be ascertained ; but it was commonly placed about fifteen or 
twenty miles south of Lake Gennesaret. 

Lamb of God. — This expression has been the subject of much discussion, and has 
been amply illustrated by the labors of learned commentators. Whether John the 
Baptizer expected Jesus 'to atone for the sins of the world, by death, has been a ques- 
tion ably argued by Kuinoel and Gabler against, and by Lampe, Wolf, and Bloom- 
field, for the idea of an implied sacrifice and expiation. The latter writer in partic- 
ular, is very full and candid : Wolf also gives a great number of references, and to 
these authors the critical must resort for the minutiae of a discussion, too heavy and 
protracted for this work. (See the above authors on John i. 39.) 

After narrating the particulars of his call, in which he was 
merely a companion of his brother, and after specifying the cir- 
cumstance of his being present at the prophecy of the temple's 
destruction, the New Testament history takes not the slightest 
notice of any action of Andrew's life ; nor is he even mentioned 
in the Acts of the Apostles, except in the mere list of their names 
in the first chapter. For anything further, reference must be 
made to that most dubious of historical materials, the tradition of 
the Fathers ; and 1 he most reasonable opinion that can be pro- 



ANDREW. 267 

nounced upon all the rest of Andrew's life is, that nothing what- 
ever is knotvn about it. He probably remained all his life in Pal- 
estine, quietly and humbly devoting himself to the trials and la- 
bors of the apostolic life, without reference to the production of 
any great admiration of his actions, or to the perpetuation of his 
fame. Being older than Peter, he probably died before him, 
and perhaps before the last great war of the Jews with the Ro- 
mans, ending in the destruction of Jerusalem, which compelled 
the Christians to leave the city. He may, however, have gone 
eastward with his brother, and passed the last years of his life in 
Babylon. 

HIS FABULOUS HISTORY. 

But such a simple conclusion to this apostle's life would by 
no means answer the purposes of the ancient writers on these 
matters ; and accordingly the inquirer into apostolic history is pre- 
sented with a long, long talk of Andrew's journey into Europe, 
through Greece and Thrace r where he is said to have founded 
many churches, undergone many labors, and performed many 
miracles, — and at last to have been crucified in a city of Greece. 
The brief, but decided condemnation of all this imposition, how- 
ever, is found in its absolute destitution of proof, or of truly an- 
cient authority. Not the most antique particular of this tedious 
falsehood can be traced back to a date within two hundred years of 
the time of the pretended journey ; and the whole story from begin- 
ning to end, was undoubtedly made up to answer the demands of 
a credulous age, when, after the triumphant diffusion of Chris- 
tianity throughout the Roman empire, curiosity began to be greatly 
awakened about the founders of the faith, — a curiosity too great 
to be satisfied with the meager statements of the records of truth. 
Moreover, every province of Christendom, following the example 
of the metropolis, soon began to claim some one of the apostolic 
band, as having first preached the gospel in its territories ; and to 
substantiate these claims, it was necessary to produce a record 
corresponding to the legend which at first floated about only in 
the mouths of the inventors and propagators. Accordingly, apoc- 
ryphal gospels and histories were manufactured in vast numbers, 
to meet this new demand, detailing long series of apostolic labors 
and journeys, and commemorating martyrdoms in every civilized 
country under heaven, from Britain to India. Among these, the 
Grecian provinces must needs come in for their share of apostolic 
honor; and Andrew was therefore given up to them, as a founder 



268 ANDREW. 

and martyr. The numerous particulars of fictitious miracles and 
persecutions might be amusing, but cannot deserve a place in this 
work, to the exclusion of serious matters of fact. A cursory- 
view of the fables, however, may be allowed, even by these con- 
tracted limits. 

The earliest story about Andrew is, that he was sent to Scythia 
first, when the apostles divided the world into provinces of duty. 
His route is said to have been through Greece, Epirus, and then 
directly northward into Scythia. Another later writer however, 
makes a different track for him, leading from Palestine into Asia 
Minor, through Cappadocia, Galatia and Bithynia ; — thence north 
through the country of the cannibals and to the wild wastes of 
Scythia ; — thence south along the northern, western and south- 
ern shores of the Black sea, to Byzantium, (now Constantinople,) 
and after some time, through Thrace, southwestwards into Mace- 
donia, Thessaly, and Achaia, in which last, his hfe and labors are 
said to have ended. By the same author, he is also in another 
passage said to have been driven from Byzantium by threats of 
the persecution, and therefore to have crossed over the Black sea to 
city of Argyropolis, on its southern coast, where he preached two 
years, and constituted Stachys bishop of a church which he there 
founded ; and thence to Sinope in Paphlagonia. It is said by others 
that, on his great northern journey, he went not only into Scythia 
but into Sogdiana, (now Tartary,) and even to the Sacae, (near the 
borders of Thibet,) and to India. 

The earliest mention made of the apostle Andrew, by any writer whatever, after 
the evangelists, is by Origen, (about A. D. 230 or 240,) who speaks of him as having 
been sent to the Sc}nhians. (Com. in Genes. 1. 3.) The passage is preserved only 
in the Latin translation of his writings, the original Greek of that part having 
been lost. The date of the original however, is too late to deserve any credit. A 
story making its first appearance nearly two centuries after the occurrence which it 
commemorates, with no reference to authorities, is but poor evidence. Eusebius (H. 
E. III. 1.) mentions barely the same circumstance as Origen, (A. D. 315.) Gregory 
Nazianzen (orat. in Ar.) is the first who says that Andrew went to Greece. (A. D. 
370.) Chrysostom also (Horn, in xii. apost.) mentions this. (A. D. 398.) Jerom 
(Script. Ecc.) quotes Sophronius, as sa)dng that Andrew went also to the Sogdians 
and Sacans. (A.D. 397.) 

Angustin (de fid. contra Manich.) is the first who brings in very much from tradi- 
tion, respecting Andrew ; and his stories are so numerous and entertaining in their 
particulars, as to show that before his time, fiction had been most busily at work with 
the apostles ; — but the details are all of such a character as not to deserve the slightest 
credit. The era of his writings moreover, is so late, (A. D. 395,) that he along with 
his contemporaries. Jerom and Chrysostom, may be condemned as receivers of late 
traditions, and corrupters of the purity of historical as well as sacred truth. 

But the later writers go beyond these unsatisfactory generali- 
ties, and enter into the most entertaining particulars, making out 
very interesting and romantic stories. The monkish apostolical 



ANDREW. 269 

novelists, of the fifth century and later, have given a great number 
of stories about Andrew, inconsistent with the earlier accounts, 
with each other, and with common sense. Indeed there is no 
great reason to think that they were meant to be believed, but 
written very honestly as fictitious compositions, to gratify the taste 
of the antique novel-readers. There is therefore, really, no more 
obligation resting on the biographer of the apostles to copy these 
fables, than on the historian of Scotland to transcribe the details 
of the romances of Scott, Porter and others, though a mere allu- 
sion to them might occasionally be proper. The most serious and 
the least absurd of these fictions, is one which narrates that, 
after having received the grace of the Holy Spirit by the gift of 
fiery tongues, he was sent to the Gentiles with an allotted field of 
duty. This was to go through Asia Minor, more especially the 
northern parts, Cappadocia, Galatia and Bithynia. Having trav- 
ersed these and other countries as above stated, he settled in 
Achaia. Where, as in the other provinces, during a stay of many 
years, he preached divine discourses, and glorified the name of 
Christ by wonderful signs and prodigies. At length he was seized 
by Aegeas, the Roman proconsul of that province, and by him 
crucified, on the charge of having converted to Christianity, Max- 
imilla, the wife, and Stratocles, the brother of the proconsul, so that 
they had learned to abhor that ruler's wickedness. 

This story is from Nicephorus Callistus, a monk of the early part of the four- 
teenth century. (See Lardner, Cred. Gos. Hist. chap. 1G5.) He wrote an ecclesias- 
tical history of the period from the birth of Christ to the year 610, in which he has 
given a vast number of utterly fabulous stories, adopting all the fictions of earlier 
historians, and adding, as it would seem, some new ones. His ignorance and folly 
are so great, however, that he is not considered as any authority, even by the Papist 
writers; for on this very story of Andrew, even the credulous Baronius says, " Sed 
fide nutant haec, ob apertum mendacium de Zeuzippo tyramio," &c. " These things 
are unworthy of credit, on account of the manifest lie about king Zeuzippus, be- 
cause there was no king in Thrace at that time, the province being quietly ruled by 
a Roman president." (Baron. Ann. 44. § 31.) The story itself is in Niceph. Ecc. 
Hist. II. 39. 

One of the longest of these novels contains a series of incidents, 
really drawn out with considerable interest, narrating mainly his 
supposed adventures in Achaia, without many of the particu- 
lars of his journey thither. It begins with simply announcing 
that, at the time of the general dispersion of the apostles on their 
missionary tours, Andrew began to preach in Achaia, but was soon 
after interrupted for a time by an angelic call, to go a great, dis- 
tance, to a city called Myrmidon, to help the apostle Matthew out 
of a scrape, that he had fallen into of himself but could not get out 

35 



2F0 ANDREW, 

of without help. Where in the world this place was, nobody call 
tell ; for there is a great clashing among the saintly authorities, 
whether it was in Scythia or Ethiopia ; and as the place is never 
mentioned by any body else, they have the dispute all in their 
own hands. But since the story says he went all the way by ship, 
from Achaia to the city, it would seem most likely to have been 
in that part of Scythia which touched the northeastern border of 
the Black sea. Having finished this business, as will be elsewhere 
told, he went back towards Achaia, and resumed the good works, 
but just begun, soon gathering around him a throng of disciples. 
Walking out with them one day, he met a blind man, who made 
the singular request that the apostle would not restore him to 
sight, though confessedly able, but simply give him some money, 
victuals and clothes. The acute Andrew straightway smelt a 
devil, (and a mighty silly one too,) in this queer speech, and declar- 
ing that these were not the words of the blind man himself, but of 
a devil who had possessed him, ordered the foolish demon to come 
out, and restored the man to sight, supplying him also with clothes 
from the backs of his disciples. The fame of this and other mir- 
acles spread far and fast, and the consequence was that the apostle 
had as many calls as a rising quack doctor. Every body that 
was in any sort of trouble or difficulty, came to him as a thing of 
course, to get a miracle done to suit the case exactly. A rich man 
who had lost a favorite slave, by death, had him raised to life by 
Andrew. A young lad whose mother had wrongfully accused 
him, before the proconsul, also called for help or advice ; — Andrew 
went into court and raised a terrible earthquake, with thunder 
and lightning, whereby all present were knocked down to the 
ground, and the wicked woman killed. The proconsul, as soon 
as he could get up, became converted, with all who had shared in 
the tumble. The apostle still increasing in business, soon had a 
call to Sinope, to see a whole family who were in a very bad 
way, — the old gentleman, Cratinus by name, being quite sick with 
a fever, — his wife afflicted with a dreadful dropsy, and his son 
possessed with a devil. These were all healed, with sundry char- 
ges about their secret sins, and some particulars as to the mode 
of cure, not worth translating, since it reads better in Latin than 
in English. He then went on through Asia to the city of Nicaea, 
in Bithynia, where his arrival was hailed with a universal shout 
of joy from the whole community, who were terribly pestered with 
seven naughty devils, that had taken up their quarters among 



fue tombs close to the highway, where they sat with a large sup- 
ply of grave-stones constantly on hand, for no earthly purpose but 
to pelt decent people as they went by, and doing it with such a 
vengeance that they had killed several outright, — besides broken 
bones not counted. Andrew, after exacting from the inhabitants 
a promise to become Christians if he cleared out this nuisance, 
brought out the seven devils, in spite of themselves, in the shape 
of dogs, before all the city ; and after he had made them a speech, 
(o-iven in very bad Latin, in the story, as it stands,) the whole 
seven gave a general yelp, and ran off into the wilderness, accord- 
ing to Andrew's direction. The inhabitants of course, were all 
baptized ; and Cailistus was left bishop over them. Going on 
from INicaea, Andrew came next to Nicomedia, the capital, where 
lie met a funeral procession coming out of the city. Andrew im- 
mediately raised the dead person,— the scene being evidently copied 
from that of the widow's son raised at Nain, considerably enlarged 
with new particulars. Going out from Nicomedia, the apostle 
embarked on the Black sea, sailing to Byzantium. On the pas- 
sage there was occasion for a new miracle, — a great storm arising, 
which was immediately stilled by the apostle. Going on from 
Byzantium through Thrace, he came among a horde of savages, 
who made a rush at him, with drawn swords. But Andrew ma- 
king the sign of the cross at them, they all dropped their swords 
and fell flat. He then passed over them, and went on through 
Thrace into Macedonia. 

This story is literally translated from one of the "apostolical stories" of a monk of 
the middle ages, who passed them otf as true histories, written by Abdias, said 
to have been one of the seventy disciples sent out by Jesus, (Luke x. 1,) and to have 
been afterwards ordained bishop of Babylon, (by Simon Zelotes and Jude.) It is an 
imposition so palpable however, in its absurdities, that it has always been condemned 
by the best authorities, both Protestant and Papist: as Melancthon, Bellarmin, Sculte- 
tus, Rivetus, the Magdeburgh centuriators, Baronius, Chemnitius, Tillemont, Vos- 
sius, and Bayle, whose opinions and censures are most of them fully given in the pre- 
face to the work itself, by Job. Al. Fabricius, (Cod. apocr. N. T\, part 2.) 

Besides all these series of fictions on Andrew's life, there are others, quoted as hav- 
ing been written in the same department. " The Passion of St. Andrew," a quite 
late apocryphal story, professing to have been written by the elders and deacons of 
the churches of Achaia, was long extensively received by the Papists, as an authen- 
tic and valuable book, and is quoted by the eloquent and venerable Bernardus, with 
the most profound respect. It abounds in long, tedious speeches, as well as painfully 
absurd incidents. The " Menaei," or Greek calendar of the saints, is also copious on 
this apostle, but is too modern to deserve any credit whatever. All the ancient fa- 
bles and traditions were at last collected into a huge volume, by a Frenchman named 
Andrew de Saussay, who, in 1656, published at Paris, (in Latin,) a book, entitled 
" Andrew, brother of Simon Peter, or, Twelve Books on the Glory of Saint An- 
drew, the Apostle." This book was afterwards abridged, or largely borrowed from, 
by John Florian Hammerschmid, in a treatise, (in Latin,) published at Prague, in 
1699, — entitled " The Apostolic Cross-bearer, or, St. Andrew, the Apostle, described 
and set forth, in his life, death, martyrdom, miracles and discourses." — Baillet's 



272 ANDREW. 

Lives of the Saints, (in French,) also contains a full account of the most remarkable 
details of these fables. (Baillet, Vies de Saints, Vol. I. Feb. 9th.) 

By following these droll stories through all their details, the 
life of Andrew might easily be made longer than that of Peter ; 
but the character of this work would be much degraded from its 
true historical dignity by such contents. The monkish novels 
and romances would undoubtedly make a very amusing, and in 
some senses, an instructive book ; and a volume as large as this 
might be easily filled with these tales. But this extract will serve 
very well as a specimen of their general character. A single 
passage farther, may however he presented, giving a somewhat 
interesting fictitious account of his crucifixion. 

After innumerable works of wonder, Andrew had come at last 
to Patras, a city in the northwestern part of Achaia, still known 
by that name, standing on the gulf of Lepanto, famous in modern 
Greek history as the scene of a desperate struggle with the Turks, 
during a long siege, in the war of Grecian independence. In this 
city, as the fable states, then resided the Roman proconsul of the 
province, whose name is variously given by different story-tellers ; 
by some, Aegeas, — by others, Aegeates and Aegeatus, and by oth- 
ers, Egetes. The apostle was soon called on to visit his family, 
by a female servant, who had been converted by the preaching of 
one of Andrew's disciples. She, coming to Andrew, fell at his 
feet, clasping them, and besought him in the name of the procon- 
sul's wife, Maximilla, her mistress, then very sick with a fever, to 
come to her house, that she might hear from him the gospel. The 
apostle went, therefore, and on entering the room found the pro- 
consul in such an agony of despair about the sickness of his be- 
loved wife, that he had at that moment drawn his sword to kill 
himself. Andrew immediately cried out, " Proconsul ! do thyself 
no harm ; but put up thy sword into its place, for the present. 
There will be a time for you to exercise it upon us, soon." The 
ruler, without perceiving the point of the remark, gave way, in 
obedience to the word of the apostle. He then, drawing nigh the 
bed of the invalid, after some discourse, took hold of her hand, 
when she was immediately covered with a profuse sweat, the 
symptoms being all relieved and the fever broken up. As soon 
as the proconsul saw the wonderful change, he, in a spirit of liber- 
al remuneration, which deserves the gratitude of the whole med- 
ical profession, ordered to be paid to the holy man the liberal fee 
of one hundred pieces of silver ; but not appreciating this lib- 



ANDREW. <Zio 

erality, Andrew decidedly refused to receive any pay at all, not 
choosing to render such medical services with the view of any 
compensation, and would not so much as look at it,— exciting 
no small astonishment in the proconsul by such extraordinary dis- 
interestedness. The apostle then leaving the palace, went on 
through the city, relieving the most miserable beggars lying in 
the dirt, with the same good will which he had shown in the fam- 
ily of the ruler. Passing on, he came to the water-side, and 
there finding a poor, wretched, dirty sailor, lying on the ground, 
covered with sores and vermin, cured him directly, lifted him up, 
and taking him into the water, close by, gave him a good wash- 
ing, which at the same time served for both body and soul, — for 
the apostle at once making it answer for a baptism, pronounced 
him pure in the name of the Trinity. Soon after this occurrence, 
which gained him great fame, he was called to relieve a boy be- 
longing to Stratocles, the brother of the proconsul, the apostle hav- 
ing been recommended to him as a curer of diseases, by Maxi nul- 
la and her maid. The devil having been, of course, cast out of 
the boy, Stratocles believed, as did his brother's wife, who was so 
desirous of hearing the apostle preach, that at last she took ad- 
vantage of her husband's absence in Macedonia, and had regular 
religious meetings in her husband's great hall of state, where he 
held his courts, — quite an extraordinary liberty for any man's wife 
to take with his affairs, behind his back. It happened at last, that 
the unsuspecting gentleman suddenly returned, when his wife had 
not expected him, and would have immediately burst into the 
room, then thronged with a great number of all sorts of people ; but 
Andrew, foreseeing what was about to happen, managed, by a queer 
kind of miracle, to make it convenient for him to go somewhere else 
for a while, until every one of the audience having been made in- 
visible with the sign of the cross, by Andrew, sneaked off unseen ; 
so that the deceived proconsul, when he came in, never suspected 
what tricks had been played on him, Maximilla, being now pre- 
vented by her husband's return from having any more meetings 
in his house, afterwards resorted to the apostle's lodgings, where 
the Christians constantly met to hear him,— and became at last so 
assiduous in her attendance by day and by night, that her hus- 
band began to grow uneasy about her unseasonable absences, be- 
cause he had no sort of pleasure with her since she had been so 
given up to her mysterious occupations, away from him almost 
constantly. He accordingly began to investigate the difficulty, 



274 



WKicEW; 



and finding- that it was the work of Andrew, who had been teach- 
ing the lady a new religion, which wholly absorbed her in de- 
votion, to the exclusion of all enjoyment with her family, sent for 
him, and commanded him to take his choice between renouncing 

o 

his troublesome faith, and crucifixion. But the apostle indignant- 
ly and intrepidly declared his readiness to maintain the doctrine 
of Jesus Christ, through all peril, and even to death, and then 
went on to give the sum and substance of his creed. The un- 
yielding proconsul however, put him in prison immediately, where 
Andrew occupied himself all night in exhorting his disciples to 
stand fast in the faith. Being brought the next day before the 
proconsul's tribunal, he renewed his refusal to sacrifice to idols, 
and was therefore dragged away to the cross, after receiving twen- 
ty-one lashes. The proconsul, enraged at his pertinacity, order- 
ed him to be bound to the cross, instead of being nailed in the 
usual way ; — (a very agreeable exchange, it would seem, for any 
one would rather have his hands and feet tied with a cord to a 
cross, than be nailed to it ; and it is hard to see how this could 
operate to increase his torture, otherwise than by keeping him 
there till he starved to death.) On coming in sight of the cross, 
he burst out into an eloquent strain of joy and exultation, while 
yet at some distance. — exclaiming as they bore him along, " Hail ! 
O cross ! consecrated by the body of Christ, and adorned with the 
pearls of his precious limbs ! I come to thee confident and rejoicing, 
and do thou receive, with exultation, the disciple of him who once 
hung on thee, since I have long been thy lover and have longed 
to embrace thee. Hail ! O cross ! that now art satisfied, though 
long wearied with waiting for me. O good cross ! that hast ac- 
quired grace and beauty from the limbs of the Lord ! long-desired 
and dearly loved ! sought without ceasing, and long foreseen witli 
wishful mind ! take me from men and give me back to my Mas- 
ter, that by thee He may receive me, who by thee lias redeemed 
me." After this personifying address to the inanimate wood, he 
gave himself up to the executioners, who stripped him, and bound 
his hands and feet as had been directed, thus suspending him on 
the cross. Around the place of execution stood a vast throng of 
sympathizing beholders, numbering not less than twenty thousand 
persons, to whom the apostle, unmoved by the horrors which so 
distressed them, now coolly addressed them in the words of life, 
though himself on the verge of death. For two days and nights, 
in this situation, in fasting and agony, he yet continued without a 



ANDREW, 



275 



moment's cessation to exhort the multitude who were constantly 
thronging to the strauge sight ; till at last, on the third day, the 
whole city, moved beyond all control, by the miracle of energy 
and endurance, rushed in one mass to the proconsul, and demand- 
ed the liberation of the God-sustained apostle. The ferocious ty- 
rant overawed by the solemn power of the demand, coming from 
such an excited multitude, at last yielded ; and to the great joy of 
the people, went out to the cross to release the holy sufferer, at 
the sight of whose enraptured triumph over pain and terror, the 
hard-hearted tyrant himself melted, and in sorrow and penitence 
he drew near the cross to exercise his new-born mercy. But An- 
drew, already on the eve of a martyr's triumph, would not bear 
to be snatched back from such glories so nearly attained ; and in 
earnest remonstrance cried out, praying, " O Lord Jesus Christ ! 
do not suffer thy servant, who for thy name's sake hangs on the 
cross, to be thus freed,— nor let me, O merciful God ! when now 
clinging to thy mysteries, be given up again to human conversa- 
tions. But take thou me, my Master ! whom I have loved,— 
whom I have known,— whom I hold,— whom I long to see, — in 
whom I am what I am. Let me die then, O Jesus, good and 
merciful.*' And having said these things for so long a time, — 
praising God and rejoicing, he breathed out his soul, amid the 
tears and groans of all the beholders. 

Here ends the tale of the fictitious Abdias Babylonius, of which this concluding 
abstract is another literal specimen, presenting its most effective part in. the pathet- 
ic line, as the former does of its ludicrous portions. The story of Andrew is alto- 
gether the longest and best constructed, as well as the most interesting in the charac- 
ter of its incidents, of all contained in the book of the Psendo- Abdias ; and I have 
therefore been more liberal in extracts from this, because it would leave little occa- 
sion for any similar specimens under the lives of the rest of the apostles. 

All this long story may, very possibly, have grown up from a beginning which was 
true ; that is, there mayhave been another Andrew, who, in a later age of the early 
times of Christianity, may have gone over those regions as a missionary, and met 
with somewhat similar adventures; and who was afterwards confounded with the 
apostle Andrew. The Scotch, for some reason or other, formerly adopted Andrew 
as their national saint, and represent him on a cross of a peculiar shape, resembling 
the letter X, known in heraldry by the name of a saltier, and borne on the badges of 
the knights of the Scottish order of the Thistle, to this day. This idea of his cross, 
however, has originated since the beginning of the twelfth century, as I shall show 
by a passage from Bernardus. 

"The truly holy Bernard, (Abbot of Clairvaux, in France, A. D. 1112,) better wor- 
thy of the title of Saint than ninety-nine hundredths of all the canonized who lived 
before him, even from apostolic days, — has, among his splendid sermons, three most 
eloquent discourses, preached in his abbey church, on St. Andrew's day, in which 
he alludes to the actions of this apostle, as recorded in the " Passion of St. Andrew," — 
a book which he seems to quote as worthy of credit. In Latin of Ciceronian purity, 
he has given some noble specimens of a pulpit eloquence, rarely equalled in any mod- 
ern language, and such as never blesses the ears of the hearers of these days. He 
begins his first discourse on this subject with saying, that in " celebrating the glorious 
triumphs of the blessed Andrew, they had that day been delighted with the words of 



276 ANDREW. 

grace, that proceeded out of his month ;" — (doubtless in hearing the story of the cruci- 
fixion read from the fictitious book of the Passion of St. Andrew, which all supposed to 
be authentic.) " For there was no room for sorrow, where he himself was so intensely 
rejoiced. No one of us mourned for him in his sufferings; for no one dared to weep 
over him, while he was thus exulting. So that he might most appropriately say to us, 
what the cross-bearing Redeemer said to those who followed him with mourning, — 
' Weep not for me; but weep for yourselves.' And when the blessed Andrew him- 
self was led to the cross, and the people, grieving for the unjust condemnation of the 
holy and just man, would have prevented his execution, — he, with the most urgent 
prayer, forbade them from depriving him of his crown of suffering. For ' he de- 
sired indeed to be released, and to be with Christ,' — but on the cross ; he desired to 
enter the kingdom, — but by the door. Even as he said to that loved form, ' that by thee, 
he may receive me, who by thee has redeemed me.' Therefore if we love him, we 
shall rejoice with him ; not only because he was crowned, but because he was cruci- 
fied." (A bad, and unscriptural doctrine ! for no apostle ever taught, or was taught, 
that it was worth while for any man to be crucified, when he could well help it.) 

In his second sermon on the same subject, the animated Bernard remarks further- 
more, in comment on the behavior of Andrew, when coming in sight of his cross, — 
"You have certainly heard how the blessed Andrew was stayed on the Lord, when 
he came to the place where the cross was made ready for him, — and how, by the spirit 
which he had received along with the other apostles, in the fiery tongues, he spoke 
truly fiery words. And so, seeing from afar the cross prepared, he did not turn pale, 
though mortal weakness might seem to demand it; his blood did not freeze, — his hair 
did not rise, — his voice, did not cleave to his throat, (non stetere comae, aut vox fau- 
cibus haesit.) Out of the abundance of his heart, his mouth did speak ; and the 
deep love Avhich glowed in his heart, sent forth the words like burning sparks." He 
then quotes the speech of Andrew to the cross, as above given, and proceeds : " I be- 
seech you, brethren, say, is this a man who speaks thus'? Is it not an angel, or some 
new creature 1 No : it is merely a ' man of like passions with ourselves.' For the 
very agony itself, in whose approach he thus rejoiced, proves him to have been ' a 
man of passion.' Whence, then, in man, this new exultation, and joy before unheard 
of? Whence, in man, a mind so spiritual, — a love so fervent, — a courage so strong 1 
Far would it be from the apostle himself, to wish, that we should give the glory of 
such grace to him. It is the ' perfect gift, coming down from the Father of Lights,' — 
from him, ' who alone does wondrous things.' It was, dearly beloved, plainly, ' the 
spirit which helpeth our infirmities,' by which was shed abroad in his heart, a love, 
strong as death, — yea, and stronger than death. Of which, O may we too be found 
partakers !" 

The preacher then goes on with the practical application of the view of these suf- 
ferings, and the spirit that sustained them, to the circumstances of his hearers. After 
some discourse to this effect, he exhorts them to seek this spirit. " Seek it then, dear- 
est! seek it without ceasing, — seek it without doubting; — in all your works invoke 
the aid of this spirit. For we also, my brethren, with the blessed Andrew, must 
needs take up our cross, — yea, Avith that Savior-Lord whom he followed. For, in 
this he rejoiced, — in this he exulted ; — because not only for him, but with him, he 
would seem to die, and be planted, so ■ that suffering with him, he might also reign 
with him.' With whom, that we may also be crucified, let us hear more attentively 
with the ears of our hearts, the voice of him who says, ' He who will come after 
me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me.' As if he said, ' Let 
him who desires me, despise himself: let him who would do my will, learn to break 
his own.' " 

Bernard then draws a minute parallel, more curious than admirable, between the 
cross and the trials of life,— likening the four difficulties in the way of holiness, to 
the four ends of the cross ; bodily fear being the foot-piece ; open assaults and temp- 
tations, the right arm-piece ; secret sins and trials, the left hand-piece ; and spiritual 
pride, the head-piece. Or, as he briefly recapitulates, the four virtues attached to the 
four horns of the cross, are these : — continence, patience, prudence, and humility. A 
truly forcible figure, and one not without its effect, doubtless, on the hearers. This 
arrangement of the cross, moreover, seems to prove, that in the time of Bernard, the 
idle story about Andrew's cross being shaped like the letter X, was entirely unknown , 
for it is evident that the whole point of the allusion here consists in the hearers sup- 
posing that Andrew was crucified on across of the common shape,— upright, with a 
transverse bar and head-piece. 



ANDREW. 277 

In conclusion of all this fabulous detail, may be appropriately quoted the closing 
passage of the second discourse of Bernard, the spirit of which, though coming from 
a Papist, is not discordant with the noblest essential principles of truly catholic Chris- 
tianity, seldom indeed, found so pure in the Romish church, as in this " Last of the 
Fathers," as he has been justly styled. This, with all the passages above quoted, may 
be found by those who can enjoy the original, in his works. (DM Bernardi Opera 
Omn. Job. Picard. Antwerp, 1609, folio ; columns 322 — 333.) 

So accordant are these words with the spirit which it becomes this work to incul- 
cate, that I may well adopt them into the text, glad to hang a moral to the end of so 
much falsehood, though drawn from such a theme, that it seems like " gathering 
grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles," 

Bernard has in this part of his discourse been completing all the details of his par- 
allel between the cross and the Christian's life, and in this conclusion, thus crowns 
the simile, by exhorting his saintly hearers to cling, each to his own cross, in spite of 
all temptation to renounce it ; that is, to persevere in daily crucifying their sins, by a 
pure deportment through life. 

Happy the soul that glories and triumphs on this cross, if it only 
persevere, and do not let itself be cast down in its trials. Let 
every one then, who is on this cross, like the blessed. Andrew, pray 
his Lord and Master, not to let him be taken down from it. For 
what is there which the malign adversary will not dare ? what 
will he not impiously presume to try ? For what he thought to 
do to the disciple by the hands of Aegeas, the same he once 
thought to do to the Master by the scornful tongues of the Jews. 
In each instance alike, however, driven by too late experience of 
his folly, he departed, vanquished and confounded. O may he 
in like manner depart from us, conquered by Him who triumphed 
over him by Himself, and by His disciple. May He cause, that 
we also may attain the same happy end, on the crosses which we 
have borne, each one in his own peculiar trials, for the glory of 
His name, "who is God over all, blessed forever." 



36 



JAMES BOANERGES? 

THE SON OF ZEBEDEE 



HIS RANK AND CHARACTER. 

Whatever may have been the peculiar excellences of this apos- 
tle's character, as recognized by the searching eye of Him who 
knew the hearts of all men, the early close of his high career has 
prevented the full development of energies, that might, in the 
course of a longer life, have been made as fruitful in works of 
wonder and praise, as those of the other members of the elect trio, 
his friend and his younger brother ; and his later years, thus pro- 
longed, might have left similar recorded testimonies of his apos- 
tolic zeal. Much too, that truly concerns his brief life, is swal- 
lowed up in the long narrative of the eminent chief of the twelve, 
whose superiority was on all occasions so distinctly marked by 
Jesus, that he never imparted to this apostle any exalted favor in 
which Peter did not also share, and in the record of which his 
name is not mentioned first. In the first call,— in the raising of 
the daughter of Jairus to life, — at the transfiguration, — and on the 
apostolic roll,— James is uniformly placed after Peter ; aud such 
too, was the superior activity and talkative disposition of Peter, 
that whenever and wherever there was anything to be said, he 
was always the first to say it, — cutting oif the sons of Zebedee 
from the opportunity, if they had the disposition, to make them- 
selves more prominent. Yet the sons of Zebedee are not entirely 
unnoticed in the apostolic history, and even the early-martyred 
James may be said to have a character quite decidedly marked, in 
those few passages in the sacred record, where facts concerning 
him are commemorated. In the apostolic list given by Mark, it 
is moreover mentioned, that he with his brother had received a 
name froiiLJesus Christ, which being given to them by him, doubt- 
less with a decided reference to their characters, serves as a val- 
uable means of ascertaining their leading traits. The name of 



JAMES BOANERGES. 279 

" Boanerges,"— " sons of thunder," seems to imply a degree of 
decided boldness, and a fiery energy, not exactly accordant with 
the usual opinions of the characters of the sons of Zebedee ; but 
it is an expression in the most perfect harmony with the few de- 
tails of the conduct of both, which are given in the New Testa- 
ment. 

Boanerges. — This word is one, whose composition and derivation, (as is the case 
with many other New Testament proper names,) have caused great discussion and 
difference" of opinion among the learned. It occurs only in Mark iii. 17, where it is 
incidentally mentioned in the list of the apostles, as a new name given to the sons 
of Zebedee by Jesus. Those who are curious, can find all the discussion in any crit- 
ical commentator on the passage. Poole's Synopsis, in one heavy folio column and 
half of another, gives a complete view of all the facts and speculations concerning 
this matter, up to his time ; the amount of all which, seems to be, that, as the word 
now stands, it very nearly sets all etymologies at defiance, — whether Hebrew, Sy- 
riac, Chaldee or Arabic,— since it is impossible to say how the word should be resolved 
into two parts, one of which should mean " sons," and the other " thunder;" so that 
it is well for us we have Mark's explanation of the name, since without it, the crit- 
ics would probably have never found either " son" or " thunder" in the word. As to 
the reason of the name's being appropriated to James and John, conjectures equally 
numerous and various may be found in the same learned work; but all equally unsat- 
isfactory. Lampe also is very full on this point. (Prol. in. Joh. cap I. lib. ii. §§ 9 — 15 , 

HIS FAMILY AND CALL. 

Of the first introduction of this apostle to Jesus, it may be rea- 
sonably conjectured, that he formed an acquaintance with him at 
the same time with his brother John and the sons of Jonah, as 
already commemorated in the former lives, from the brief record 
in the first chapter of John's gospel. After this, he and his brother, 
as well as Peter and Andrew, returned quietly to their honest bu- 
siness of fishing on the lake of Gennesaret, on whose shore, no 
doubt, was their home,— perhaps too, in Bethsaida or Capernaum, 
as their intimacy and fellowship with the sons of Jonah would 
seem to imply a vicinity of residence ; though their common oc- 
cupation might bring them frequently together in circumstances 
where friendly assistance was mutually needed ; and the idea of 
their residence in some other of the numerous villages along the 
northern end of the lake, on either side, is not inconsistent with 
any circumstance specified in their history. In their occupation 
of fishing, they were accompanied by their father Zebedee, who 
it seems, was not so far advanced in years as to be unable to aid 
his sons in this very laborious and dangerous business ; which 
makes it quite apparent that James and John being the sons of so 
active a man, must themselves have but just attained manhood, at 
the time when they are first mentioned. Respecting the charac- 
ter of this brisk old gentleman, unfortunately very few data indeed 
are preserved ; and the vagueness of the impression made by his 



280 JAMES BOANERGES. 

name, though so often repeated in connection with his sons, may 
be best conceived by reference to that deeply enigmatical question, 
with which grave persons of mature age are sometimes wont to 
puzzle the inquisitive minds of young aspirants after Biblical 
knowledge, " Who was the father of Zebedee's children?" — a query 
which certainly implies a great deficiency of important facts, on 
which the curious learner could found a definite idea of this 
somewhat distinguished character. Indeed " the mother of Zeb- 
edee's children" seems to posses in the minds of most readers of 
the gospels a much more prominent place than " the father of 
them;" for the simple occasion on which she presents herself to 
notice, is of such a nature as to show that she was the parent 
from whom the sons inherited at least one prominent trait, — that 
of high, aspiring ambition, with which, in them as well as in her, 
was joined a most decidedly comfortable degree of self-esteem, that 
would not allow them to suspect that other people could be at all 
behind them in appreciating those talents, which in their own 
opinion, and their fond mother's, showed that they were "born to 
command." Indeed it appears manifest, that there was much 
more " thunder" in her composition, than in her husband's, and it 
is but fair to suppose, from the decided way in which she put her- 
self forward in the family affairs, on at least one important occa- 
sion, without any pretension whatever on his part, to any right of 
interference or decision, that she must have been in the habit of 
having her own way in most matters ; — a peculiar prominence in 
the domestic administration, very naturally resulting from the cir- 
stance, that her husband's frequent long absences from home must 
have left the responsibilities of the family often upon her alone, 
and he, like a prudent, man, on his return, may have valued do- 
mestic quiet above the maintenance of any very decided su- 
premacy. If the supposition may be adopted, however, that 
Zebedee died soon after the call of his sons, the silence of the sa- 
cred record respecting him is easily accounted for, and the above 
conclusion as to his domestic management, may be considered 
unnecessarily derogatory to his dignity of character. 

Sprung from such parents, and brought up by them on the 
shores and waters of Gcnnesaret, James had learned the humble 
business of his father, and was quietly devoting himself to the la- 
bors of a fisherman, probably never dreaming of an occasion that 
should ever call forth his slumbering energies in " thunder," or 
hold up before his awakened ambition, the honors of a name that 



JAMES BOANERGES. 



281 



Should outlast the wreck of kingdoms, and of the brightest glories 
of that age. But on the morning, when the sons of Jonah re- 
ceived the high call and commission to become " fishers^ of men," 
James and his brother too, — at the solemn command, " Follow 
m e ? " — laid down their nets, and left the low labors and amuse- 
ments of the fishing, to their father, who toiled on with his ser- 
vants, while his sons went forth through Galilee, following him 
who had called them to a far higher vocation. No acts whatever 
are commemorated, as performed by them in this first pilgrimage ; 
and it was not until after their return from the north of Galilee, 
and the beginning of their journey to Jerusalem, that the occa- 
sion arose, when their striking family trait of ambition was most 
remarkably brought out. 

TITS AMBITIOUS CLAIMS. 

Their intellectual and moral qualities being of a comparatively 
high order, had already attracted the very favorable attention of 
Jesus, during the first journey though Galilee ; and they had al- 
ready, on at least two occasions, received most distinguishing 
marks of his regard, — they alone of all the twelve, sharing in 
the honor of being present with Peter at the raising of the daugh- 
ter of Jairus, and being still more highly favored by the view of 
the solemn events of the night of the transfiguration, amid the 
thunders of Hermon. On that occasion, the terrors of the scene 
overcame even their aspiring souls ; and when the cloud burst 
over them, they both sunk to the earth, in speechless dread, along 
with Peter, too, who had previously manifested so much greater 
self-command than they, in daring to address in complaisant 
words the awful forms before them ; while they remained silent 
with terror at a phenomenon for which their views of their Mas- 
ter's character had but poorly prepared them. From all these 
prostrating terrors they had since, however, fully recovered, and 
were now completely restored to their former confidence in them- 
selves, and were still rooted in their old views of the Messiah's 
earthly glories,- — in this particular, however, only sharing the 
common error of the whole twelve. In this state of mind, look- 
ing upon Jesus Christ only as an ambitious man, of powerful 
mind, vast knowledge, divine consecration, and miraculous gifts, 
which fitted him for the subversion of the Roman dominion, and 
the erection of a kingdom of his own, — their thoughts were all 
the while running on the division of the spoils and honors, which 
would be the reward of the chief followers of the conqueror ; and 



282 



JAMES BOANERGES. 



in this state of mind, they were prepared to pervert all the decla- 
rations of Jesus, so as to make them harmonize with their own 
hopes and notions. While on this journey southward, to Jeru- 
salem, after they had passed into the eastern sections of Judea, 
beyond the Jordan, Jesus was one day, in answer to an inquiry 
from Peter, promising his disciples a high reward for the sacri- 
fices they had made in his service : and assuring them, that in re- 
turn for houses or lands or relatives or friends, left for his name's 
sake, they should all receive a return, a hundred-fold greater than 
the loss. Especially were their fancies struck by a vivid picture, 
which he presented to their minds, of the high rewards accruing 
to all the twelve, declaring that after the completion of the change 
which he was working, and when he had taken his own imperial 
throne, they should sit around him on twelve thrones, judging the 
twelve tribes of Israel. Here was a prospect, enough to satisfy 
the most aspiring ambition ; but along with the hopes now awa- 
kened, arose also some queries about the preference of places in 
this throned triumph, which were not easily settled so as to satisfy 
all at once. In the proposed arrangement, it was perfectly evi- 
dent, that of the whole circle of thrones, by far the most honora- 
ble locations would be those immediately on the right and left of 
the Messiah-king ; and their low ambition set them at once con- 
triving how to get these pre-eminent places for themselves. Of 
all the apostolic band, none could so fairly claim the right hand 
throne as Peter ; already pronounced the Rock on which the 
church should be founded, and commissioned as the keeper of the 
keys of the kingdom. But Peter's devotion to his Master seems 
to have been of too pure a character, to let him give any thought 
to the mere rewards of the victory, so long as he could feel sure 
of the full return of that burning affection to his Lord, with 
which his own ardent soul glowed ; and he left it to others to 
settle points of precedency and the division of rewards. On no 
occasion throughout his whole life, is there recorded any ev- 
idence of the slightest disposition to claim the mere honors of 
a pre-eminence, though his superior force of character made the 
whole band instinctively look to him for guidance, on all times 
of trouble and danger, after the ascension. His modest, confi- 
ding, disinterested affection for his Master, indeed, was the main 
ground of all the high distinctions conferred on him so unspa- 
ringly by Jesus, who would have been very slow to honor thus, 
one who was disposed to grow proud or overbearing under the 



JAMES B0ANE11GES. 2S3 

possession of these favors. But this very character of modesty 
and uncalculating affection, gave occasion also to the other disci- 
ples, to push themselves forward for a claim to those peculiar ex- 
altations, which his indifference to personal advancement seemed 
to leave unoccupied, for the more ambitious to assume. In this 
instance, particularly, James and John were so far moved with 
the desire of the enviable distinction of this primacy, that 
they made it a matter of family consultation, and accordingly 
brought the case before their fondly ambitious mother, who in- 
stantly determined that the great object should be achieved before 
any one else could secure the chance for the place ; and resolved 
to use her influence in favor of her darling sons. On the first 
favorable opportunity she therefore went with them to Jesus ; and, 
as it would appear by the combination of the accounts of Mat- 
thew and Mark, both she and they presented the request at once 
and together, — James and John, however, prefacing the declara- 
tion of their exact purpose by a general petition for unlimited fa- 
vor, — " Master, we would that thou shouldst do for us whatever 
we desire ?" To this modest petition, Jesus replied by asking, 
" What would ye that I should grant ?" They, with their mo- 
ther, falling down at his feet in fawning, selfish worship, then 
urged their grand request : — " Grant," said the ambitious Salome, 
" that these my two sons may sit, the one on thy right hand, and 
the other on thy left, when thou reignest in thy glory." Jesus, 
fully appreciating the miserable state of selfish ignorance which 
inspired the hope and the question, in order to show them their 
ignorance, and to make them express their minds more fully, as- 
sured them that they knew not the meaning of their own request, 
and asked them whether they were able to drink of the cup that 
he should drink of, and be baptized with the baptism that he 
should be baptized with ? With unhesitating self-conceit, they 
answered, " We are able." But Jesus replied in such atone as to 
check all further solicitation of this kind from them, or from any 
other of his hearers. " Ye shall drink indeed of my cup, and 
be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with ; but to sit 
on my right hand and on my left, is not mine to give ; but it shall 
be given to them for whom it is prepared by my father."—" The 
cup of sorrow, and suffering, and agony,— the baptism of spirit, 
fire, and blood,— of these you shall all drink in a solemn and 
mournful reality, which you are now far from conceiving ; but 
the high places of the kingdom which I come to found, are not 



284 



JAMES BOANERGES. 



to be disposed of to those who think to forestall my personal fa- 
vor : they are for the blessed of my father, who, in the time ap- 
pointed in his own good pleasure, will give it to them, in the end 
of days." The disappointed family of Zebedee retired, quite 
confounded with the rejection of their petition, and with the 
darkly told prophecy that accompanied it, dooming them to some 
mysterious fate of which they could form no idea whatever. The 
rest of the twelve, hearing of the ambitious attempt of the sons 
of Zebedee to secure the supremacy, by a secret movement, and 
by family influence, were moved with great indignation against 
the intriguing aspirants, and expressed their displeasure so deci- 
dedly, that Jesus called them around him, to improve this manifes- 
tation of folly and passion, to their advantage ; and said, " You 
know that the nations are governed by princes and lords, and 
that none exercise authority over them but the great ones of the 
land. Now it shall not be so among you ; but he who will be great 
among you, must be your servant ; and he who shall be your 
chief, shall be the slave of all the rest. For even the Son of 
Man himself came not to make others his slaves, but to be him- 
self a slave to many, and even to sacrifice his life in their service." 

Salome. — The reason for the supposition that this was really the name of the mother 
of James, consists in the comparison of two corresponding passages of Matthew and 
Mark. In Matt, xxvii. 56, it is said that among the women present at the crucifix- 
ion, were " Mary Magdalene, Mary, the mother of Joses, and the mother of Zebedee' 's 
children." In the parallel passage, Mark xv. 40, they are mentioned as " Mary Mag- 
dalene, Mary, the mother of James and Joses, and Salome." In Mark xvi. 1, Salome 
is also mentioned among those who went to the sepulcher. This is not proof posi- 
tive, but it is reasonable ground for the supposition, more especially as Matthew 
never mentions Salome by name, but repeatedly speaks of " the mother of Zebedee's 
children." 

If, as is probable then, Salome and the mother of Zebedee's children were identical, 
it is also reasonable to suppose, as Lampe does, that Zebedee himself may have died 
soon after the time when the call of his sons took place. For Salome could hardly 
have left her husband and family, to go, as she did, with Jesus on his journeys, minis- 
tering to his necessities, — but if her husband was really dead, she would have but few 
ties to confine her at home, and would therefore very naturally be led, by her mater- 
nal affection, and anxiety for her sons, to accompany them in their wandering life. 
The supposition of Zebedee's death is also justified by the circumstance, that John is 
spoken of in his own gospel, (Joh. xix. 27,) as possessing a house of " his own," which 
seems to imply the death of his father; since so young a man would hardly have ac- 
quired property, except by inheritance. 

Thus he laid out before them all the indispensable qualities of 
the man who aspired to the dangerous, painful and unenviable 
primacy among them, — humility, meekness and laborious indus- 
try. But vain were all the earnest teachings of his divine spirit. 
Schemes and hopes of worldly eminence and imperial dominion, 
were too deeply rooted in their hearts, to be displaced by this oft- 



JAMES BOANERGES. 285 

repeated view of tfic labors and trials of his service. Already, on 
a former occasion too, had he tried to impress them with the true 
spirit of the apostleship. When on the way to Capernaum, at the 
close of this journey through Galilee, they had disputed among 
themselves on the question, which of them should be the prime 
minister of their Messiah-king, when he had established his heav- 
enly reign in all the dominions of his father David. On their 
meeting with him in the house at Capernaum, he brought up this 
point of difference. Setting a little child before them, (probably 
one of Peter's children, as it was in his house,) and taking the lit- 
tle innocent into his arms, he assured them that unless they should 
become utterly changed in disposition and in hope, and become 
like that little child in simplicity of character, they should have 
no share whatever, in the glories of that kingdom, which was to 
them an object of so many ambitious aspirations. But neither 
■this charge nor the repetition of it, could yet avail to work that 
necessary change in their feelings. Still they all lived on in vain 
and selfish hope, scheming for personal aggrandizement, till the 
progress of events bringing calamity and trial upon them, had pu- 
rified their hearts, and fully fitted them for the duties of the great 
office to which they had so unthinkingly devoted themselves. 
Then indeed, did the aspiring James receive, in a deeper sense 
than he had ever dreamed of, the reward for which he now long- 
ed and begged ; — drinking first of the cup of agony, and baptized 
first in blood, he ascended first to the place on the right hand of 
the Messiah in his eternal kingdom. But years of toil and sor- 
row, seen and felt, were his preparation for this glorious crown. 

James has also been made the subject of a long series of fables, though the early 
termination of his apostolic career would seem to leave no room whatever, for the 
insertion of any very great journeys and labors upon the authentic history. But the 
Spaniards, in the general rage for claiming some apostle as a national patron saint, 
long ago got up the most absurd fiction, that James, the son of Zebedee, during the 
period intervening between Christ's ascension and his own execution at Jerusalem, 
actually performed a voyage over the whole length of the Mediterranean, into Spain, 
where he remained several years, preaching, founding churches, and performing 
miracles, and returned to Jerusalem in time for the occurrence of the concluding 
event, as recorded in the twelfth chapter of Acts. This story probably originated in 
die same manner as that suggested to account for the fables about Andrew ; that is, — 
that some preacher of Christianity, of this name, in a later age, actually did travel 
into Spain, there preaching the gospel, and founding churches ; and that his name 
being deservedly remembered, was, in the progress of the corruptions of the truth, 
confounded with that of the apostle James, son of Zebedee, — this James being selected 
rather than the son of Alpheus, because the latter had already been established by 
tradition, as the hero of a story quite inconsistent with any Spanish journey, and be- 
ing also less dignified by the Savior's notice. Be that as it may, Saint James (Santo 
Jago) is to this day esteemed the patron saint of Spain, and his tomb is shown in 
Compostella, in that kingdom ; for they will have it, that, after his decapitation by 
Herod Agrippa, his body was brought all the way over the sea, to Spain, and there 

37 



286 JAMES BOANERGES. 

buried in the scene of his toils and miracles. A Spanish order of knighthood, that of 
St. Jago de Compostella, takes its name from this notion. 

The old romancer, Abdias Babylonius, who is so rich in stories about Andrew, 
has much to tell about James, and enters at great length into the details of his cruci- 
fixion ; crowning the whole with the idle story, that when he was led to death, his 
accuser, Josiah, a Pharisee, suddenly repenting, begged his forgiveness and professed 
his faith in Christ, — for which he also was beheaded along with him, after being bap- 
tized by James in some water that was handed to him by the executioner, in a cala- 
bash. (Abd. Babylon. Hist. Apost. IV. § 9.) 

From the time of this event, there occurs no mention whatever 
of any act of James, until the commemoration of the occasion of 
his exit ; and even this tragic circumstance is mentioned so briefly, 
that nothing can be learned but the mere fact and manner of his 
death. On the occasion fully described above, in the life of Pe- 
ter, Herod Agrippa I. seized this apostle, and at once put him to 
death by the executioner's sword. The particular grounds, on 
which this act of bloody cruelty was justified by the tyrant and 
his friends, are wholly unknown. Probably there was a pre- 
tence at a set accusation of some crime, which would make the act 
appear less atrocious at the time, than appears from Luke's silence 
as to the grounds of the proceeding. The remarkable promin- 
ence of James, however, was enough to offer a motive to the pop- 
ularity-seeking Agrippa, whose main object, being to " please the 
Jews," led him to seize those who had most displeased them, by 
laboring for the advancement of the Nazarene heresy. And that 
this actually was his governing principle in selecting his victims, 
is made further apparent by the circumstance that Peter, the great 
chief of the band, was next marked for destruction. Though no 
particular acts of James are recorded as having made him prom- 
inently obnoxious to the Jews, yet there is every reason to believe, 
that the exalted ardor and now chastened ambition of this Son of 
Thunder, had made him often the bold assaulter of sophistry 
and hypocrisy, — a heroism which at once sealed his doom, and 
crowned him with the glory of THE APOSTOLIC PROTO 
MARTYR, 



JOHN ; 

THE SON OF ZEBEDEJ 



HIS CHARACTER. 

This other son of Zebedee and of " thunder," whenever any 
description of the apostles has been given, has been by most reli- 
gious writers generally characterized as a mild, amiable person, 
and is thus figured in strong contrast with the bold and often 
bitter spirit of Peter. The circumstance that he is described as 
" the disciple whom Jesus loved," has doubtless done much to 
cause the almost universal impression which has prevailed, as to 
the meekness of his disposition. But this is certainly without just 
reason ; for there is no ground for supposing that any peculiar 
softness was essential to the formation of the character for which 
the Redeemer could feel a strong affection. On the contrary, the 
almost universal behavior of the apostolic band, seems to show 
that the natural characteristics which he marked as betraying in 
them the deeper qualities that would best fit them for his service 
and qualify them as the sharers of his intimate instruction and 
affection, were more decidedly of the stern and fiery order, than 
of the meek and gentle. Nor is there any circumstance recorded 
of John, whether authentic or fabulous, that can justify the sup- 
position that he was an exception to these general, natural charac- 
teristics of the apostles ; but instances sufficiently numerous are 
given in the gospels, to make it clear, that he was not altogether 
the soft and gentle creature, that has been commonly presented 
as his true image. 

It has been commonly supposed that he was the youngest of 
all the apostles ; nor is there any reason to disbelieve an opinion 
harmonizing, as this does, with all that is recorded of him in the 
New Testament, as well as with the undivided voices of all tra- 
dition. That he was younger than James, may be reasonably 
concluded from the circumstance that he is always mentioned a£ 



28S 



jghjt. 



ter him, though his importance in the history of the foundation 
of the Christian faith might seem to justify an inversion of this 
order ; and in the life of James, it has already been represented 
as probable, that he too must have been quite young, being the son 
of a father who was still so much in the freshness of his vigor, as 
to endure the toils of a peculiarly laborious and dangerous busi- 
ness. On this point, also, the opinion even of tradition is entitled 
to some respect, on the ground taken by an author quoted in the 
life of Peter, — that though we consider tradition as a notorious 
liar, yet we may give some attention to its reports, because even 
a liar may sometimes speak the truth, where he has no object in 
deceiving us. 

The youngest of the disciples. — All that can be said on this opinion is,, that it is pos- 
sible, and if the testimony of the Fathers were worth the slightest consideration on any 
historical question concerning the apostles, it might be called even probable ; but no 
early writer alludes to his age at all, till Jerome, who very decidedly calls John, " the 
youngest of all the apostles." Several later Fathers make the same assertion, but 
the voice of antiquity has already been shown to be worth very little, when it is not 
heard within three centuries of the events on which it oilers its testimony. But at any 
rate the assertion of John's juniority is not improbable. 

A great deal of violent discussion has been lavished on the almost equally impor- 
tant question, whether John was ever married. The earliest established testimony 
on this point is that of Tertullian, who numbers John among those who had restrained 
themselves from matrimony for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Testimony as 
late as the second century, however, on an opinion which favored monastic views, is 
worth nothing. But on the strength of this, many Fathers have made great use of 
John, as an instance of celibacy, accordant with monastic principles. Epiphanius, 
Jerome and Augustin allude frequently to the circumstance, the latter Father in par- 
ticular insisting that John was engaged to be married when he was called, but gave 
up the lady, to follow Jesus. Some ingenious modern theologians have even improved 
upon this so far as to maintain thai the marriage of Cana in Galilee was that of 
John, but that he immediately left his wife after the miracle. (See Lampe, Prolegom 
I. i. 13, notes.) 

HIS FAMILY AND BUSINESS. 

The authentic history of the life of this apostle must also ne- 
cessarily be very brief; most of the prominent incidents which 
concern him, having already been abundantly described in the 
preceding lives. But there are particulars which have not been 
so fully entered into, some of which concern this apostle exclu 
sively, while in others he is mentioned only in conjunction with 
his brother and friends ; and these may all, with great propriety, 
be more fully given in this life, since his eminence, his writings, 
and long protracted labors, make him a proper subject for a minute 
disquisition. 

Being the son of Zebedee and Salome, as has already been men- 
tioned in the life of his brother, he shared in the low fortunes and 
laborious life of a fisherman, on the lake of Gennesarct. This oc- 
cupation indeed, did not necessarily imply the very lowest rank 



JOHN 



289 



ia society, as is evident from the fact that the Jews held no useful 
occupation to be beneath the dignity of a respectable person, or 
even a learned man. Still the nature of their business was such, 
as to render it improbable that they had adopted it with any other 
view than that of maintaining themselves by it, or of enlarging 
their property, though perhaps not of earning a support which 
they had no other means whatever of procuring. It has been said, 
that doubtless, there were many other inhabitants of the shores of 
the lake, who occasionally occupied themselves in fishing, and yet 
were by no means obliged to employ themselves constantly in that 
avocation. But the brief statement of circumstances in the gospels 
is enough to show that such an equipage of boats and nets, and 
such steady employment all night, were not indicative of anything 
else than a regular devotion of time to it, in the way of business. 
Yet that Zebedee was not a man in very low circumstances, as to 
property, is quite manifest from Mark's statement, that when they 
were called, they left their father in the vessel, along with the 
" servants," or workmen, — which implies that they carried on their 
fishing operations, on so extended a scale, as to have a number of 
men in their service, and probably had a vessel of considerable 
size, since it needed such a plurality of hands to manage it, and 
use the apparatus of the business to advantage ; a circumstance 
in which their condition seems to have been somewhat superior 
to that of Peter and Andrew, of whom no such particulars are 
specified, — all accounts representing them as alone, in a small ves- 
sel, which they were able to manage of themselves. The posses- 
sion of some family estate is also implied, in numerous incidental 
allusions in the gospels ; as in the fact that their mother Salome 
was one of those women who followed Jesus and "ministered to 
him of their substance" or possessions. She is also specified among 
those women who brought precious spices for embalming the body 
of Jesus. John is also mentioned in his own gospel, as having a 
house of his own, in which he generously supported the mother of 
Jesus, as if he himself had been her son, throughout the remain- 
der of her life ; an act of friendly and pious kindness to which he 
would not have been competent, without the possession of some 
property in addition to the house. 

HIS EDUCATION. 

There is reason to suppose, that in accordance with the estab- 
lished principles of parental duty among the Jews, he had learn- 
ed the rudiments of the knowledge of the Mosaic law ; for a 



290 



JOHN. 



proverbial sentence of the religious teachers of the nation, rank- 
ed among the vilest of mankind, that Jew, who suffered a son to 
grow up without being educated in the first principles, at least, of 
his national religion. But that his knowledge, at the time when 
he first became a disciple of Jesus, extended beyond a barely re- 
spectable degree of information on religious matters, there is no 
ground for believing ; and though there is nothing which directly 
contradicts the idea that he may have known the alphabet, or 
have made some trifling advances in literary knowledge, — yet the 
manner in which he, together with Peter, was spoken of by the 
proud members of the Sanhedrim, seems to imply that they did 
not pretend to any knowledge whatever of literature. And the 
terms in which both Jesus and his disciples are constantly al- 
luded to by the learned scribes and Pharisees, seem to show that 
they were all considered as utterly destitute of literary education, 
though, by reason of that very ignorance, they were objects of the 
greatest wonder to all who saw their striking displays of a reli- 
gious knowledge, utterly unaccountable by a reference to any- 
thing that was known of their means of arriving at such intel- 
lectual eminence. Indeed, there seems to have been a distinct 
design on the part of Christ, to select for his great purpose, men 
whose minds were wholly free from that pride of opinion and 
learned arrogance, almost inseparable from the constitutions of 
those who had been regularly trained in the subtleties of a sla- 
vish system of theology and law. He did not seek among the 
trained and drilled scholars of the formal routine of Jewish dog- 
matism, for the instruments of regenerating a people and a world, 
but among the bold, active, and intelligent, yet uneducated Gali- 
leans, whose provincial peculiarities and rudeness, moreover, in a 
high degree incapacitated them from taking rank among the pol- 
ished scholars of the Jewish capital. Thus was it, that on the 
followers of Christ, could never be put the stigma of mere theo- 
logical disputants ; and all the gifts of knowledge, and the graces 
of mental power, which they displayed under his divine teach- 
ings, were totally free from the slightest suspicion of any other 
than a miraculous origin. Some have, indeed, attempted to con- 
jecture, from the alleged elegance of John's style in his gospel 
and epistles, that he had early received a finished education, in 
some one of the provincial Jewish colleges ; and have even gone 
so far as to suggest, that probably Jairus, " the ruler of the syna- 
gogue" in Capernaum, or more properly, " the head of the school 



JOHN. 291 

of the law," had been his instructor,— a guess of most remarka- 
ble profundity, but one that, besides lacking all sort of evidence or 
probability, is furthermore made totally unnecessary, by the indu- 
bitable fact, that no signs of any such perfection of style are no- 
ticeable in any of the writings of John, so as to require any elabo- 
rate hypothesis of this kind to explain them. The greatest pro- 
bability is, that all his knowledge, both of Hebrew literature and 
the Greek language, was acquired after the beginning of his apos- 
tolic course. 

.HIS NAME. 

The Jews were accustomed, like most of the ancient nations 
of the east, to confer upon their children significant names, which 
were made to refer to some circumstance connected with the per 
son's prospects, or the hopes of his parents respecting him. In 
their sou's name, probably Zebedee and. Salome designed to ex- 
press some idea auspicious of his progress and character in after 
life. The name " John," is not only common in the New Testa- 
ment, but also occurs in the Hebrew scriptures in the original 
form " Johanan," which bears the happy signification of " the favor 
of Jehovah," or, " favored by Jehovah." They probably had this 
meaning in mind when they gave the name to him, and on that 
account preferred it to one of less hopeful religious character ; but 
to suppose, as some commentators have, that in conferring it, they 
were indued with a prophetic spirit, which for the moment direct- 
ed them to the choice of an appellation expressive of the high 
destiny of a chosen, favored herald of the grace of God, to Israel 
and to the Gentiles, — is a conjecture too absurdly wild to be enter- 
tained by a sober and discreet critic for a moment. Yet there are 
some, who, in the rage for finding a deep meaning in the simplest 
matters, interpret this simple, common name, as prophetically ex- 
pressive of the beginning of the reign of grace, and of the abro- 
gation of the formal law of Moses, first announced by John the 
Baptist, whose testimony was first fully recorded in the gospel of 
John the Apostle. Such idle speculations, however, serve no 
useful purpose, and only bring suspicion upon more rational in- 
vestigations in the same department. 

HIS CALL AND DISCIPLESHIP. 

The first introduction of John to Jesus, appears to be distinctly, 
though modestly, described by himself, in the first chapter of his 
gospel, where he has evidently designated himself in the third per- 
son, as " the other disciple" of John the Baptist, who accompanied 



292 john. 

Andrew on his first visit to Jesus. After this introduction above 
narrated, he seems to have remained near the newly found Mes- 
siah for some days, being of course, included among those disci- 
ples who were present at the marriage in Cana. He appears to 
have returned, soon after, to his avocation on the lake, where he, 
for some time, appears to have followed the business in which he 
had been brought up, till the word of his already adopted Master 
came to summon him to the actual duties of the discipleship. On 
the journeys that followed this call, he was engaged in no act of 
importance, in which he was not also associated with those disci- 
ples, in whose lives these incidents have been already fully des- 
cribed. On one occasion however, a solitary instance is recorded 
by Luke, of a remark made by John, during a conversation which 
took place in Capernaum, after the return from the mission through 
Galilee, and not long before the great journey to Jerusalem. It 
seems to have been at the time when Jesus was inculcating a 
child-like simplicity, as an essential characteristic of his followers ; 
and the remark of John is, both by Mark and Luke, prefaced with 
the words, — " and John answered and said," — though no very 
clear connection can be traced between what he said and the pre- 
ceding words of Jesus. The passage however is interesting, as 
showing that John was not always most discreet in his regard for 
the peculiar honors of his Master,— and in the case which he re- 
fers to, had in his restrictive zeal, quite gone beyond the rules of 
action, by which Jesus expected him to be guided. The remark 
of John on this occasion was, — " Master, we saw one casting out 
devils in thy name, and we forbade him, because he followeth not 
with us." This confession betrays a spirit still strongly under the 
influence of worldly feelings, manifesting a perfectly natural emo- 
tion of jealousy, at the thought of any intrusion, upon what he 
deemed the peculiar and exclusive privilege of himself and his 
eleven associates in the fellowship of Christ. The high commis- 
sion of subduing the malign agencies of the demoniac powers, had 
been specially conferred on the elect twelve, when they first went 
forth on the apostolic errand. This divine power, John had sup- 
posed utterly above the reach of common men, and it was there- 
fore with no small surprise, and moreover with some indignant 
jealousy, that he saw a nameless person, not enrolled in the sa- 
cred band, nor even pretending to follow in any part of their train, 
boldly and successfully using the name of Jesus Christ, as a charm 
to silence the powers of darkness, and to free the victims of their 



john. 293 

evil influences. This sort of feeling was not peculiar to John, 
but occurs wherever there arises a similar occasion to suggest it. 
It has been rife among the religious, as well as the worldly, in all 
ages ; and not a month now passes when it is not openly mani- 
fested, marring by its low influences, the noblest schemes of Chris- 
tian benevolence, as well as checking the advances of human am- 
bition. So many there are who, though imbued in some degree 
with the high spirit of apostolic devotion, yet, when they have 
marked some great field of benevolence for their efforts, are apt 
to regard it as their own peculiar province, and are disposed to 
view any action in that department of exertion as an intrusion 
and an encroachment on their natural rights. This feeling is the 
worst characteristic of ultra-sectarianism, — a spirit which would 
" compass sea and land," not merely "to gain one proselyte," but 
also to hinder a religious rival from the attainment of a similar 
purpose, — a spirit which in its modes of manifestation, and in its 
results, is nearer to that of the demon it aspires to expel, than to 
that of Him in whose name it professes to work. But that such 
was not the spirit of Him who went about doing good, is seen in 
the mild, yet earnest reply with which he met the manifestation of 
this haughty and jealous exclusiveness in his beloved disciple. 
" Forbid him not ; for there is no man who can do a miracle in 
my name, who will lightly speak evil of me. For he who is not 
against us is on our part." And then referring to the previous 
train of his discourse, he went on to say,—" For he who shall give 
you a cup of water in my name, because you belong to Christ, I 
tell you, indeed, he shall not lose his reward." So simple were the 
means of manifesting a true regard for Christ, and so moderate 
were the services which would constitute a claim to his remem- 
brance, and to a participation in the rights of his ministry. If the 
act of kindness or of apostolic ministration had been done in his 
name, and had answered its good purpose, this was enough to 
show that he who performed it was such a friend as, so far from 
speaking evil of Jesus, would insure the best glory of his name, 
though he had not attached himself in manner and form to the 
train of regular disciples. Jesus Christ did not require a formal 
profession of regular discipleship, as essential to the right of doing 
good in his name, or to the surety of a high and pure reward. 
How many are there among his professed followers in these times, 
xvho are " able to receive this saying ?" There are few indeed, 
who, hearing it on any authority but his, would not feel disposed 

38 



294 



j cm iv 



to reject it, at once, as a grievous heresy. Yet such was, uftqtteS' 
tionably, the spirit, the word, and the practice of Jesus. Il was 
enough for him to know that the weight of human woe, which 
called him forth on his errand of mercy, was lightened ; and that 
the spirit before darkened and' bound down by the powers of evil, 
was now brought out into glorious light and freedom. Most ear- 
nestly did he declare this solemn principle of catholic communion ; 
and most distinctly did he reiterate it in a varied form. The sim- 
plest act of kindness done to the commissioned of Christ, would ? 
of itself, constitute a certain claim to his divine favor. But, on the 
other hand, the least wilful injury of one sent forth from hinr 
would at once insure the ruin of the perpetrator. 

Soon after this solemn inculcation of universal charity, Jesus 
began to prepare his disciples for their great journey to Jerusalem : 
and at last having completed his preliminary arrangements, he 
went on his way, sending forward messengers, (James and John, 
as it would seem,) to secure a comfortable stopping-place, at a 
Samaritan village which lay on his road. These select emis- 
saries accordingly proceeded in the execution of their honorable 
commission, and entering the village, announced to the inhabit- 
ants the approach of the far-famed Galilean prophet, Jesus of Naz- 
areth, who, being then on his way to attend the great annual feast 
in Jerusalem, would that night deign to honor their village with 
his divine presence ; — all which appears to have been communi- 
cated by the two messengers, with a full sense of the importance 
of their commission, as well as of the dignity of him whose ap- 
proach they announced. But the sturdy Samaritans had not yet 
forgotten the rigid principles of mutual exclusiveness, which had 
so Ions: been maintained between them and the Jews, with all the 
combined bitterness of a national and a religious quarrel ; and so 
they doggedly refused to open their doors in hospitality to one 
whose " face was as though he would go to Jerusalem." At this 
manifestation of sectarian and sectional bitterness, the wrath of the 
messengers knew no bounds, and reporting their inhospitable and 
scornful rejection to Jesus, the two Boanerges, with a spirit quite 
literally accordant with their surname, inquired, " Lord ! wilt. 
thou that we command fire to come down from heaven, and con- 
sume them as Elijah did ?" The stern prophet of the days of Aha- 
ziah, had called down fire from heaven to the destruction of two 
successive bands of the insolent myrmidons of the Samaritan king : 
and might not the wonder-doing Son of Man, with equal vindic 



,k>hn. 295 

flveness. commission his faithful followers to invoke the thunder 
on the inhospitable sectaries of the modern Samaritan race ? But 
however this sort of summary justice might sui*, the wrathful 
piety of James and his " amiably gentle" brother, it was by Jesus 
deemed the offspring of a spirit too far from the forgiving benev- 
olence of his gospel, to be passed by, unrebuked. He therefore 
turned reprovingly to these fierce " Sons of Thunder," with the re- 
ply, — « Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of. For the 
Son of Man is not come to destroy men's lives, but to save them." 
And thus silencing their forward, destructive zeal, he quietly turn- 
ed aside from the inhospitable sectarians who had refused him ad- 
mission, and found entertainment in another village, where the in- 
habitants were free from such notions of religious exclusivencss. 

So idolatrous was the reverence with which many of the Fathers and ancient the- 
ologians were accustomed to regard the apostles, that they would not allow that these 
chosen ones of Christ ever committed any sin whatever ; at least, none after their 
calling to be disciples. Accordingly, the most ridiculous attempts have been made 
to justify or excuse the faults and errors of those apostles, who are mentioned in the 
New Testament as having committed any act contrary to the received standards of 
right. Among other circumstances, even Peter's perjured denial of his Lord, has 
found stubborn defenders and apologists ; and among the saintly commentators of 
both Papist and Protestant faiths, have been found some to stand up for the immacu- 
late soundness of James and John, in this act of wicked and foolish zeal. Ambrose of 
Milan, in commenting on this passage, must needs maintain that their ferocity was in 
accordance with approved instances of a similar character in the Old Testament. 
il Nee discipuli peccant," says he, " qui legem sequuntur ;" and he then refers to the 
instance of extemporaneous vindictive justice in Phineas, as well as to that of Elijah, 
which was quoted by the sons of Zebedee themselves. He argues, that, since the apos- 
tles were indued with the same high privileges as the prophets, they were in this in- 
stance abundantly justified in appealing to such authority for similar acts of ven- 
geance, tie observes, moreover, that this presumption was still farther justified in 
them, by the name which they had received from Jesus ; " being £ sons of thunder] 
they might fairly suppose that fire would come down from heaven at their word." 
But Lampe very properly remarks, that the prophets were clearly moved to these 
acts of wrathful justice, by the Holy Spirit, and thereby also, were justified in a vin- 
dictiveness, which might otherwise be pronounced cruel and bloody. The evidence 
of this spirit-guidance, those old prophets had, in the instantaneous fiery answer from 
heaven, to their denunciatory prayer ; but on the other hand, in this case, the words of 
Jesus in reply to the Sons of Thunder, show that they were not actuated by a holy 
spirit, nor by the Holy Spirit, for he says to them, " Ye know not what manner of 
spirit ye are of," — which certainly implies that they were altogether mistaken in sup- 
posing that the spirit and power of Elijah rested on them, to authorize such wide- 
wasting and indiscriminate ruin of innocent and guilty, — women and children, as well 
as men, inhabiting the village ; and he rebukes and condemns their conduct for the 
very reason that it was the result of an unholy and sinful spirit. 

Yet, not only the Romish Ambrose, but also the Protestant Calvin, has, in his idol- 
atrous reverence for the infallibility of the apostles, (an idolatry hardly less unchris- 
tian than the saint-worship against which he strove,) thought it necessary to condemn 
and rebuke Maklonado, as guilty of a detestable presumption, in declaring the sons 
of Zebedee to have been lifted up with a foolish arrogance. On the arguments by 
which Calvin justifies James and John, Lampe well remarks, that the great reformer 
uses a truly Jesuitical weapon, (propria vineta caedit Loyolita,) when he says that 
" they desired vengeance not for themselves, but for Christ ; and were not led into er- 
ror by any fault, but merely by ignorance of the spirit of the gospel and of Christ." 
But was not this ignorance itself a sin, showing itself thus in the very face of all the 



296 john. 

oft-repeated admonitions of Jesus against this bloody spirit, even in his ox any cause? 
and of all his inculcations of a universal rule of forbearance and forgiveness? 

John is not mentioned again in the gospel history, until near the 
close of the Savior's labors, when he was about to prepare his 
twelve chosen ones, for the great change which awaited their 
condition, by long and earnest instruction, and by prayer. In 
making the preliminary arrangements for this final meeting, John 
was sent along with Peter, to see that a place was provided for 
the entertainment. After this commission had been satisfactorily 
executed, they joined with Jesus and the rest of the twelve disci- 
ples in the Paschal feast, each taking a high place at the board, 
and John in particular reclining next to Jesus. As a testi- 
mony of the intimate affection between them, it is recorded by this 
apostle himself in his gospel, that during the feast he lay on Je- 
sus's breast, — a position which, though very awkward, and even 
impossible, in the modern style of conducting feasts in the sitting 
posture, was yet rendered both easy and natural, in the ancient 
mode, both Oriental and Roman, of reclining on couches around 
the table. Under these circumstances, those sharing the same 
part of the couch, whose feelings of affection led them most readi- 
ly together,— such a position as that described by John, would oc- 
cur very naturally and gracefully. It here, in connection with 
John's own artless, but expressive sentence, mentioning himself 
as the disciple whom Jesus loved, presents to the least imaginative 
mind, a most beautifully striking picture of the state of feeling 
between the young disciple and his Lord, — showing how closely 
their spirits were drawn together, in an affection of the most sa- 
cred and interesting character, far surpassing the paternal and 
filial relation in the high and pure nature of the feeling, because 
wholly removed from the mere animalities and instincts that form 
and modify so much of all natural love. The regard between 
these two beings was by no means essentially dependent on any 
striking similarity of mind or feeling. John had very little of 
that mild and gentle temperament which so decidedly character- 
ized the Redeemer ; — he had none of that spirit of meekness and 
forgiveness which Jesus so often and earnestly inculcated ; but a 
fierce, fiery, thundering zeal, arising from a temperament, ardent 
alike in anger and in love. Nor was such a character at all dis- 
cordant with the generality of those for whom Jesus seemed to 
feel a decided preference. There is no one among the apostolic 
bandj whether Galilean or Hellenistic, of whose characters any 



John. 297 

definite idea is given, that does not seem to be marked most deci- 
dedly by the fiercer and harsher traits. Yet like those of all chil- 
dren of nature, the same hearts seem to glow, upon occasion, as 
readily with affectionate as with wrathful feeling, both, in many 
instances, combining in their affection for Jesus. The whole gos- 
pel record, as far as the twelve disciples are concerned, is a most 
satisfactory comment on the characteristics ascribed by Josephus 
to the whole Galilean race,—" ardent and fierce." And this was 
the very temperament which recommended them before all men in 
the world, for the great work of laying the deep foundations of 
the Christian faith, amid opposition, hatred, confusion, and blood. 
And among these wild, but ardent dispositions, did even the mild 
spirit of the Redeemer find much that was congenial to its frame, 
as well as its purposes ; for in them, his searching eye recognized 
faculties which, turned from the base ends of worldly strife and 
low, brawling contest, might be exalted, by a mere modification, 
and not eradication, to the great works of divine benevolence, 
The same temperament that once led the ardent Galileans into 
selfish quarrels, under the regenerating influences of a holy spirit, 
might be trained to a high devoted self-sacrifice for the good of 
others ; and the valor which once led them to disregard danger 
and death in spiteful enmity, could, after an assimilation to the 
spirit of Jesus, be made equally energetic in the dangerous labors 
of the cause of universal love. Such is most clearly the spirit of 
the Galilean disciples, as far as any character can be recognized 
in the brief, artless sketches, incidentally given of them in the 
New Testament history. Nor is there any good reason to mark 
John as an exception to these harsher attributes. The idea, now 
so very common, of his softness and amiability, seems to have 
grown almost entirely out of the circumstance, that he was " the 
disciple whom Jesus loved ;" as if the high spirit of the Redeemer 
could feel no sympathy with such traits as bravery, fierce energy, 
or even aspiring ambition. Tempted originally by the great 
source of evil, yet without sin, he himself knew by what spiritual 
revolutions the impulses which once led only to evil, could be 
made the guides to truth and love, and could see, even in the 
worst manifestations of that fiery ardor, the disguised germ of a 
holy zeal, which, under his long, anxious, prayerful care and cul- 
tivation, would become a tree of life, bringing forth fruits of good 
for nations. Even in these low, depraved mortals, therefore, he 
could find much to love,— nor is the circumstance of his affec- 



298 john. 

tionate regard, in itself, any proof that John was deficient in the 
most striking characteristics of his countrymen ; and that he was 
not so, there is proof positive and unquestionable in those details 
of his own and his brother's conduct, already given. 

At this Paschal feast, lying, as described, on the bosom of Jesus, 
he passed the parting hours in most intimate communion with 
his already doomed Lord. And so close was their proximity, and 
so peculiarly favored was he, by the confidential conversation of 
Jesus, that when all the disciples were moved with painful doubt 
and surprise at the mysterious annunciation that there was a 
traitor among them, Peter himself, trusting more to the opportu- 
nities of John than to his own, made a sign to him to put to his 
Master a question, to which he would be more likely to receive 
an answer than anybody else. The beloved disciple, therefore, 
looking up from the bosom of Jesus, into his face, with the confi- 
dence of familiar affection, asked him, " Who is it, Lord?" And 
to his eager inquiry, was vouchsafed at once a most unhesitating 
and satisfactory reply, marking out, in the most definite manner, 
the person intended by his former dark allusion. 

After the scenes of Gethsemane, when the alarmed disciples 
fled from their captured Master, to avoid the same fate, John also 
shared in the race ; but on becoming assured that no pursuit of 
the secondary members of the party was intended, he quietly 
walked back after the armed train, keeping, moreover, close to 
them, as appears by his arriving at the palace gate along with 
them, and entering with the rest. On his way, in the darkness, 
he fell in with his friend Peter, also anxiously following the train, 
to learn the fate of his Master. John now proved of great ad- 
vantage to Peter ; for, having some acquaintance with the high 
priest's family, he might expect admission to the hall without dif- 
ficulty. This incident is recorded only by John himself, in his 
gospel, where, in relating it, he refers to himself in the third per- 
son, as " another disciple," according to his usual modest circum- 
locution. John, somehow or other, was well and favorably 
known to the high priest himself, for a very mysterious reason ; 
but certainly the most unaccountable point in Bible history is 
this : — how could a faithful follower of the persecuted and hated 
Jesus, be thus familiar and friendly in the family of the most 
powerful and vindictive of the Jewish magnates ? Nor can the 
difficulty be any way relieved, by supposing the expression, " an- 
other disciple" to refer to a person different from John ; for all 



JOHK 



29 



the disciples ol Jesus would be equally unlikely persons for the in- 
timacy of the Jewish high priest. Whatever might be the rea- 
son of this acquaintance, John was well-known throughout the 
family of the high priest, as a person high in favor and familiar- 
ity with that great dignitary ; so that a single word from him to 
the portress, was sufficient to procure the admission of Peter also, 
who had stood without, not daring to enter as his brother apostle 
did, not having any warrant to do so on the ground of familiarity. 
Of the conduct of John during the trial of Jesus, or after it, no 
account whatever is given, — nor is he noticed in either of the 
gospels except his own, as present during any of these sad events ; 
but by his story it appears, that, in the hour of darkness and hor- 
ror, he stood by the cross of his beloved Lord, with those women 
who had been the constant servants of Jesus during life, and 
were now faithful, even through his death. Among these women 
was the mother of the Redeemer, who now stood in the most des- 
olate agony, by the cross of her murdered son, without a home 
left in the world, or a person to whom she had a natural right to 
look for support. Just before the last agony, Jesus turned to the 
mournful group, and seeing his mother near the disciple whom he 
loved, he said, " Woman ! behold thy son !" And then to John ? 
u Behold thy mother !" The simple words were sufficient, with- 
out a gesture ; for the nailed and motionless hands of Jesus could 
not point out to each, the person intended as the object of parental 
or filial regard. Nor was this commission, thus solemnly and af- 
fectingiy given, neglected ; for, as the same disciple himself as- 
sures us, " from that hour, he took her to his own house." The 
highest token of affection and confidence that the Redeemer could 
confer, was this, — marking, as it did, a most pre-eminent regard, 
by committing to his charge a trust, that might with so much pro- 
priety have been committed to others of the twelve who were 
very nearly related to the mother of .Jesus, being her own 
nephews, the sons of her sister. But so high was the confidence 
of Jesus in the sincerity of John's affection, that he unhesitatingly 
committed to him this dearest earthly charge, trusting to his love 
for its keeping, rather than to the considerations of family, and of 
near relationship. 

In the scenes of the resurrection, John is distinguished by the 
circumstance of his hurrying first, along with Peter, to the sepul- 
cher, on hearing from the women the strange story of what had 
happened : and both hastening in the most intense anxiety to 



300 JOHN. 

learn the nature of the occurrences which had so alarmed the 
women, the nimbleness of the youthful John soon carried him 
beyond Peter, and outstripping him in the anxious race, he came 
down to the sepulcher before him, and there stood, breathless, 
looking down into the place of the dead, in vain, for any trace of 
its late precious deposit. While he was thus glancing into the 
place, Peter came up, and with a much more considerate zeal, de- 
termined on a satisfactory search, and accordingly went down 
into the tomb himself, and narrowly searched all parts ; and John, 
after his report, also then descended to assure himself that Peter 
had not been deceived by a too superficial examination of the in- 
side. But having gone down into the tomb, and seen for himself 
the grave-clothes lying carefully rolled up, but no signs whatever 
of the body that had once occupied them, he also believed the 
report of the women, that the remains of Jesus had been stolen 
away in the night, probably by some ill-disposed persons, for an 
evil purpose, and perhaps to complete the bloody triumph of the 
Jews, by denying the body so honorable an interment as the 
wealthy Joseph had charitably given it. In distress and sorrow- 
ful doubt, therefore, he returned with Peter to his own house, 
without the slightest idea of the nature of the abstraction. 

The next account of John is in that interesting scene, described 
in the last chapter of his own gospel, on the lake of Galilee, where 
Jesus met the seven disciples who went on the fishing excursion 
by night, as already detailed in the life of Simon Peter, who was 
the first to propose the thing, and who, in the scenes of the morn- 
ing, acted the most conspicuous part. The only passage which 
immediately concerns John, is the concluding one, where the 
prophecy of Jesus is recorded respecting the future destiny of this 
beloved disciple. Peter, having heard his Master's prophecy of 
the mode in which he should conclude his life, hoping to pry still 
farther into futurity, asked what would be the fate of John also. 
" Lord, what shall this man do ?" To which Jesus replied, " If 
I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee ?" — an an- 
swer evidently meant to check his curiosity, without gratifying it 
in the least ; as John himself, remarking on the fact, that this 
saying originated an unfounded story, that Jesus had promised 
him that he should never die,— says that Jesus never specified 
any such thing, but merely said those few unsatisfactory words 
in reply to Peter. The words, " till I come," referred simply to 
the time when Christ should come in judgment on Jerusalem, for 



JOHN. 301 

that unquestionably was the " coming," of which he had so often 
warned them, as an event for which they must be prepared ; and 
it was partly from a misinterpretation of these words, by applying 
them to the final judgment, that the idle notion of John's immor- 
tality arose. John probably surviving the other apostles many 
years, and living to a very great age, the second generation of 
Christians conceived the idea of interpreting this remark of Jesus 
as a prophecy that his beloved disciple should never die. And 
John, in his gospel, knowing that this erroneous opinion was 
prevalent, took pains to specify the exact words of Jesus, showing 
that they implied no direct prophecy whatever, nor. in any way 
alluded to the possibility of his immortality. After the ascension, 
John is mentioned along with the rest who were in the upper 
room, and is otherwise particularized on several occasions, in the 
Acts of the Apostles. He was the companion of Peter in the 
temple, at the healing of the lame man, and was evidently consid- 
ered by the chief apostle, a sharer in the honors of the miracle ; 
nor were the Sanhedrim disposed to deem him otherwise than 
criminally responsible for the act, but doomed him, along with 
Peter, to the dungeon. He is also honorably distinguished by be- 
ing deputed with Peter to visit the new church in Samaria, where 
he united with him in imparting the confirming seal of the spirit 
to the new converts, — and on the journey back to Jerusalem, 
preached the gospel in many villages of the Samaritans. 

From this time no mention whatever is made of John in the 
Acts of the Apostles ; and the few remaining facts concerning him, 
which can be derived from the New Testament, are such only as 
occur incidentally in the epistolary writings of the apostles. Paul 
makes a single allusion to him, in his epistle to the Galatians, 
where, speaking of his reception by the apostles on his second visit 
to Jerusalem, he mentions James, Cephas and John, as " pillars" 
in the church, and says that they all gave him the right hand of 
fellowship. This little incidental allusion, though so brief, is worth 
recording, since it shows that John still resided in Jerusalem, and 
there still maintained his eminence and his usefulness, standing 
like a pillar, with Cephas and James, rising high above the many, 
and upholding the bright fabric of a pure faith. This is the only 
mention ever made of him in the epistles of Paul, nor do any of 
the remaining writings of the New Testament contain any notice 
whatever of John, except those which bear his own name. But 
as these must all be referred to a later period, they may be left un~ 

39 



302 ioaj^ 

noticed until some account has been given of the intervening por- 
tions of his long life. Here then the course of investigation must 
leave the sure path of scripture testimony, and lead on through 
the mazy windings of traditionary history, among the baseless re- 
cords of the Fathers. 

Pillars. — This was an expressive figurative appellation, taken no doubt, with di- 
rect allusion to the noble white columns of the porches of the temple, subserving in so 
high a degree the purposes both of use and ornament. The term implies with great 
force,, an exalted excellence in these three main supporters of the first Christian 
church, and besides expressing the idea of those eminent virtues which belonged to 
them in common with other distinguished teachers of religion, it is thought by Lampe, 
that there is implied in this connection, something peculiarly appropriate to these 
apostles. Among the uses to which columns were applied by Egyptians, Jews, 
Greeks and Romans, was that of bearing inscriptions connected with public ordinan- 
ces of state or religion, and of commemorating facts in science for the knowledge of 
other generations. To this use, allusion seems to be made in Prov. ix. 1. " Wisdom 
has built her house, — she has engraved her seven pillars." And in Rev. iii. 12, a 
still more unquestionable reference is made to the same circumstance. " Him that 
overcomes, will I make a pillar in the temple of my God, and he shall go no more 
out ; and I will write upon him the name of my God, and the name of the city of my 
God, the new Jerusalem, which comes down out of heaven from God, — and my 
own new name ;" — a passage which Grotius illustrates by a reference to this very use 
of pillars for inscriptions. It is in connection with this idea, that Lampe considers the 
term as peculiarly expressive in its application to "James, Cephas and John," since 
from them, in common with all the apostles, proceeded the oracles of Christian truth, 
and those principles of doctrine and practice, which were acknowledged as the rule 
of faith, by the churches of the new covenant. To these three, moreover, belonged 
some peculiar attributes of this character, since they distinguished themselves above 
the most of the twelve, by their written epistolary charges, as well as by the general 
pre-eminence accorded to them by common eonsent, leaving to them the utterance 
of those apostolic opinions, which went forth from Jerusalem as law for the Christian 
churches. 

Lampe quotes on this point Vitringa, (Obs. Sac. I. iii. 7,) Suicer, (Thes. Ecc. voc, 
cruAos,) and Gataker, (Cin. ii. 20.) He refers also to Jerome, commenting on Gal. ii. 9 ; 
who there alludes to the fact that John, one of the "pillars," in his Revelation, intro- 
duces the Savior speaking as above quoted. (Rev. iii. 12.) 

THE RESULTS OF TRADITION. 

Probably there are few results of historical investigation, that 
will make a more decided impression of disappointment on the 
mind of a common reader, than the sentence, which a rigid ex- 
amination compels the writer to pass, with almost uniform con- 
demnatory severity, on all apostolic stories which are not sanc- 
tioned by the word of inspiration. There is a universal curiosity, 
natural, and not uncommendable, felt by all the believers and 
hearers of the faith which the apostles preached, to know some- 
thing more about these noble first witnesses of the truth, than the 
bare broken and unconnected details which the gospel, and the 
apostolic acts can furnish. At this day, the most trifling circum- 
stances connected with them, — their actions, their dwelling-places, 
their lives or their deaths, have a value vastly above what could 
ever have been appreciated by those of their own time, who acted, 



JOHN, 303 

dwelt, lived, and died with them,— a value increasing through the 
course of ages, in a regular progression, rising as it removes 
from the objects to which it refers. But the very course of this 
progression implies a diminution of the means of obtaining the de- 
sired information, proportioned to the increase of the demand for 
it • — and along with this condition of things, the all-pervading and 
ever-active spirit of invention comes in, to quench, with deep 
draughts of delightful falsehood, the honest thirst for literal truth. 
The misfortune of this constitution of circumstances, being that 
the want is not felt till the means of supplying it are irrecovera- 
bly gone, puts the investigation of the minutiae of all antiquity, 
sacred or profane, upon a very uncertain ground, and requires the 
most critical test for every assertion, offered to satisfy a curiosity 
which, for the sake of the pleasure thus derived, feels interested in 
deceiving itself ; for 

" Doubtless the pleasure is as great 
Of being cheated as to cheat." 

Even the spirit of deep curiosity which beguiles the historical 
inquirer into a love of the fabulous and unfounded tales of tradi- 
tion, though specifically more elevated by its intellectual charac- 
ter, is yet generically the same with the spirit of superstitious cre- 
dulity, that leads the miserable Papist to bow down with idola- 
trous worship before the ridiculous trash, called relics, which are 
presented to him by the consecrated impostors who minister to 
him in holy things ; and the feeling of indignant horror with 
which he repulses the Protestant zeal, that would rob his spirit of 
the comfortable support afforded by the possession of an apostol- 
ical toe-nail, a lock of a saint's hair, or by the sight of the Sa- 
vior's handkerchief, or of a drop of his blood, — is all perfectly 
kindred to that indignant regret with which even a reformed read- 
er regards all these critical assaults upon agreeable historical de- 
lusions, — and to that stubborn attachment with which he often 
clings to antique falsehood. Yet the pure consolations of the 
truth, known by research and judgment, are so far above these 
baser enjoyments, that the exchange of fiction, for historical 
knowledge, though merely of a negative kind, becomes most de- 
sirable even to an uncritical mind. 

The sweeping sentence of condemnation against all tradition- 
ary stories, may, however, be subjected to some decided exceptions 
in the case of John, who, living much longer than any other of 
the apostles, would thus be much more widely and lastingly 



304 



JOHN. 



known than they, to the Christians of the first and second gene- 
rations after the immediate contemporaries of the twelve. On 
this account the stories about John come with much higher tra- 
ditionary authority, than those which pretend to give accounts of 
any other apostle ; and this view is still further confirmed by the 
character of most of the stories themselves ; which are certainly 
much less absurd and vastly more probable in their appearance, 
than the great mass of apostolic traditions. Indeed, in respect to 
this apostle, may be said, what can not be said of any other, that 
some tolerably well-authorized, and a very few decidedly authen- 
tic, statements of his later life, may be derived from passages in 
the genuine writings of the early Fathers. 

HIS JUDAICAL OBSERVANCES. 

The first point in John's history, on which the authentic testi- 
mony of the Fathers is offered to illustrate his life, after the Acts 
of the Apostles cease to mention him, is, that during the difficul- 
ties between the weak-minded, Judaizing Christians, and those of 
a freer spirit who advocated an open communion with those Gen- 
tile brethren that did not conform to the Mosaic ritual, he, with 
Peter, and more particularly with James, joined in recommending 
a compromise with the inveterate prejudices of the Jewish be- 
lievers ; and to the end of his life, though constantly brought in 
contact with Gentiles, he himself still continued, in all legal and 
ritual observances, a Jew. A striking and probable instance of 
this adherence to Judaism, is given in the circumstance, that he 
always kept the fourteenth day of March as holy time, in con- 
formity with one of the most common of the religious usages in 
which he had been brought up ; and the respect with which he 
regarded this observance is strongly expressed in the fact that he 
countenanced and encouraged it, also, in his disciples, some of 
whom preserving it throughout life as he did, brought down the 
notice of the occurrence to those days when the extinction of al- 
most all the Judaical part of primitive Christianity made such a 
peculiarity very remarkable. This, though a small, is a highly 
valuable incident in the history of John, containing a proof of 
the strong affection which lie always retained for the religion of 
his fathers, — a feeling which deserves the highest commendation, 
accompanied as it was, by a most catholic spirit towards those 
Gentile Christians who could not bear a yoke, which education 
and long habit alone made more tolerable to him. 

With Peter and Jo.mes. — The authority for this is Irenaeus. (A. D. 150—170,) who 



JOHN 



305 



Says, u Those apostles who were with James, permitted the Gentiles indeed to art 
freely, leaving us to the spirit of God. They themselves, too, knowing the same 
God, persevered in their ancient observances. * * * Thus the apostles 
whom the Lord made witnesses of his whole conduct and his whole teaching, (for ev- 
ery where are found standing together with him, Peter, James and John,) religiously 
devoted themselves to the observance of the law, which is by Moses, thus acknow- 
ledging both [the law and the spirit] to be from one and the same God." (Iren. adv. 
Her.) 

Fourteenth day of March.— This refers to the practice of observing the feast of the 
resurrection of Christ, on the fourteenth day of March, corresponding with the pass- 
over of the Jews, — a custom long kept up in the eastern churches, instead of always 
keeping it on Sunday. The authoritv for the statement is found in two ancient wri- 
ters ; both of whom are quoted by Eusebius. (H. E., V. 24.) He first quotes Poly- 
crates, (towards the end of the second century,) as writing to Victor, bishop of Rome, 
in defense of the adherence of the eastern churches to the practice of their fathers, in 
keeping the passover, or Easter, on the fourteenth day of the month, without regard 
to the day of the week on which it occurred, though the great majority of the Chris- 
tian churches throughout the world, by common consent, always celebrated this re- 
surrection feast on the Lord's day, or Sunday. Polycrates, in defense of the oriental 
practice of his flock and friends, so accordant with early Jewish prejudices, quotes 
the example of the Apostle John, who, he says, died at Ephesus, where he (Polycra- 
tes) was bishop. He says, that John, as well as his brother-apostle, Philip, and Poly- 
carp his disciple, " all observed Easter on the fourteenth day of the month, never va- 
rying from that day, at all." Eusebius (ibid.) quotes also Irenaeus, writing to the 
same bishop Victor, against his attempt to force the eastern churches into the adop- 
tion of the practice of the Roman church, in celebrating Easter always on a Sunday, 
instead of uniformly on the fourteenth day of the month, so as to correspond with the 
Jewish passover. Irenaeus, in defense of the old eastern custom, tells of the practice 
of Polycarp, bishop of Smyrna, a disciple of John.. Polycarp, coming to Rome in the 
days of bishop Anicetus, (A. D. 151 — 100,) though earnestly exhorted by that bish- 
op to renounce the eastern mode of celebrating Easter always on the fourteenth, like 
the Jewish passover, steadily refused to change ; giving as a reason, the fact that John, 
the disciple of Jesus, and others of the apostles, whom he had intimately known, had 
always followed the eastern mode. 

Tliis latter authority, fairly derived from a person who had been the intimate 
friend of John himself, may be pronounced entitled to the highest respect, and 
quite clearly establishes this little circumstance, which is valuable only as showing 
John's pertinacious adherence to Jewish forms, to the end of his life. 

Socrates, an ecclesiastical historian, (A. D. 439,) alludes to the circumstance, that 
those -who observed Easter on the fourteenth, referred to the authority of the Apostle 
John, as received by tradition. 

THE DEPARTURE FROM JERUSALEM. 

Some vain attempts have been made to ascertain the time at 
which the apostle John left Jerusalem ; but it becomes an honest 
investigator to confess, here, the absolute want of all testimony, 
and the total absence of such evidence as can afford reasonable 
ground even for conjecture. All that can be said, is, that there is 
no account of his having left the city before the Jewish war ; 
and there is some reason, therefore, to suppose that he remained 
there till driven thence by the first great alarm occasioned by the 
unsuccessful attack from Cestius Gallus. This Roman general, in 
the beginning of the Jewish war, (A. D. 66,) advanced to Jerusa- 
lem, and began a siege, which, however, he soon raised, without 
any good reason ; and suffering a fine opportunity of ending the 
war at once, thus to pass by, unimproved, he marched off, 



60b JOHN. 

thou o]i in reality the inhabitants were then but poorly provi- 
ded with means to resist him. His retreat, however, gave 
them a chance to prepare themselves very completely for the 
desperate struggle which, as they could see, was completely be- 
gun, and from which there could now be no retraction. This 
interval of repose, after such a terrible premonition, also gave op- 
portunity to the Christians to withdraw from the city, on which, 
as they most plainly saw, the awful ruin foretold by their Lord, 
was now about to fall. Cestius Gallus, taking his stand on the 
hills around the city, had planted the Roman eagle-standards on 
the highths of Zophim, on the north, where he fortified his camp, 
and thence pushed the assault against Bezetha, or the upper part 
of the city. These were signs which the apostles of Jesus, who 
had heard his prophecy of the city's ruin, could not misunder- 
stand. Here was now "the abomination of desolation, standing 
in the holy place where it ought not ;" and as Matthew records 
the words of Jesus, this was one great sign of coming ruin. 
" When they should see Jerusalem encompassed with armies, they 
were to know that the desolation thereof was nigh ;" for so Luke 
records the warning. " Then let them which are in Judea flee 
to the mountains ; and let them who are in the midst of it de- 
part out ; and let not them that are in other countries enter into 
it. For these are the days of vengeance, that all things which 
are written may be fulfilled." The apostles, therefore, reading 
in all these signs the literal fulfilment of the prophetic warning 
of their Lord, gathered around them the flock of the faithful ; 
and turning their faces to the mountains of the northwest, to seek 
refuge beyond the Jordan, — 

— " Their backs they turned 
On those proud towers, to swift destruction doomed." 

Nor were they alone ; for as the Jewish historian, who was an 
eye-witness of the sad events of those times, records, " many of 
the respectable persons among the Jews, after the alarming 
attack of Cestius, left the city, like passengers from a sinking 
ship." And this fruitless attack of the Romans, he considers to 
have been so arranged by a divine decree, to make the final ruin 
fall with the more certainty on the truly guilty. 

THE REFUGE IN PELLA. 

A tradition, entitled to more than usual respect, from its serious 
and reasonable air, commemorates the circumstance that the Chris- 
tians, on leaving: Jerusalem, took refuge in the city of Pella, which 



JOHN. 30? 

stood on a small western branch of the Jordan, about sixty miles 
north-west from Jerusalem, among- the mountains of Gilcad. The 
locality on some accounts is a probable one, for it is distant from 
Jerusalem and beyond Judea, as the Savior directed them to flee ; 
and being also on the mountains, answers very well to the other 
particulars of his warning. But there are some reasons which 
would make it an undesirable place of refuge, for a very long 
time, to those who fled from scenes of war and commotion, for 
the sake of enjoying peace and safety. That part of Galilee which 
formed the adjacent territory on the north of Pella, a few months 
after, became the scene of a devastating war. The city of Gama- 
la, not above twenty miles off, was besieged by Vespasian, the 
general of the Roman invading army, (afterwards emperor,) and 
was taken after a most obstinate and bloody contest, the effect of 
which must have been felt throughout the country around, ma- 
king it any thing but a comfortable place of refuge, to those who 
sought peace. The presence of hostile armies in the region near, 
must have been a source of great trouble and distress to the in- 
habitants of Pella, so that those who fled from Jerusalem to that 
place, would, in less than a year, find that they had made no very 
agreeable exchange. These bloody commotions however, did not 
begin immediately, and it was not till nearly one year after the 
flight of the Christians from Jerusalem, that the war was brought 
into the neighborhood of Pella ; for Josephus fixes the retreat of 
Cestius Gallus on the twelfth of November, in the twelfth year of 
Nero's reign, (A. D. 66,) and the taking of Gamala, on the twenty- 
third of October, in the following year, after one month's siege. 
There was then a period of several months, during which this re- 
gion was quiet, and would therefore afford a temporary refuge to 
the fugitives from Jerusalem ; but for a permanent home they 
would feel obliged to look not merely beyond Judea, but out of 
Palestine. Being in Pella, so near the borders of Arabia, which 
often afforded a refuge to the oppressed in its desert-girdled homes, 
the greater portion would naturally move off in that direction, and 
many too, probably extend their journey eastward into Meso- 
potamia, settling at last in Babylon, already becoming a new 
dwelling-place for both Jews and Christians, among whom, as has 
been recorded in a former part of this work, the Apostle Peter had 
made his home, where he probably remained for the rest of his 
life, and also died there. Respecting the movements of the 
Apostle John in this general flight, nothing certain can be affirm- 



30S jo tiis, 

ed ; but all probability would, without any other evidence, suggest 
that he followed the course of the majority of those who were 
under his pastoral charge ; and as their way led eastward, he 
would be disposed to take that route also. And here the floating 
fragments of ancient tradition may be cited, for what they are 
worth, in defense of a view which is also justified by natural 
probabilities. 

THE JOURNEY EASTWARD. 

The earliest testimony on this point does not appear, however, 
until near the close of the fourth century ; when it arises in the 
form of a vague notion, that John had once preached to the Par- 
tisans, and that his first epistle was particularly addressed to them. 
From a few such remnants of history as this, it has been consid- 
ered extremely probable, by some, that John passed many years, 
or even a great part of his life, in the regions east of the Euphra- 
tes, within the bounds of the great Parthian empire, where a vast 
number of his refugee countrymen had settled after the destruc- 
tion of Jerusalem, enjoying peace and prosperity, partly forgetting 
their national calamities, in building themselves up almost into a 
new people, beyond the bounds of the Roman empire. These 
would afford to him an extensive and congenial field of labor ; they 
were his countrymen, speaking his own language, and to them he 
was allied by the sympathies of a common misfortune and a com- 
mon refuge. Abundant proof has already been offered, to show 
that in this region was the home of Peter, during the same 
period; and probabilities are strongly in favor of the supposition, 
that the other apostles followed him thither, making Babylon the 
new apostolic capital of the eastern churches, as Jerusalem had 
been the old one. From that city, as a center, the apostles would 
naturally extend their occasional labors into the countries east- 
ward, as far as their Jewish brethren had spread their refugee set- 
tlements ; for beyond the Roman limits, Christianity seems to have 
made no progress whatever among the Gentiles, in the time of the 
apostles ; and if there had been no other difficulties, the great dif- 
ference of lanoTiaofe and manners, and the savage condition of most 
of the races around them, would have led them to confine their 
labors wholly to those of their own nation, who inhabited the 
country watered by the Euphrates and its branches : or still far- 
ther east, to lands where the Jews seem to have spread themselves 
to the banks of the Indus, and perhaps within the modern bounda- 
ries of India. Some wild traditionary accounts, of no great an- 



JOHN. 309 

thority, even offer reports, that the Apostle John preached in In- 
dia ; and some of the Jesuit missionaries have supposed that they 
had detected such traditions among the tribes of that region, among 
whom they labored. All that can be said of these accounts is, 
that they accord with a reasonable supposition, which is made 
probable by other circumstances ; but traditions of such a stand- 
ing cannot be said to prove anything. 

Parlhia. — The earliest trace of this story is in the writings of Augustin, (A. D. 
398,) who quotes the first epistle of John as "the epistle to the Parthians," from 
which it appears that this was a common name for that epistle, in the times of Au- 
gustin. Athanasius is also quoted by Bede, as calling it by the same name. If he 
wrote to the Parthians in that familiar way, it would seem probable that he had been 
among them, and many writers have therefore adopted this view. Among these, the 
learned Mill (Prolegom. in N. T. § 150) expresses his opinion very fully, that John 
passed the greater part, of his life among the Parthians, and the believers near them. 
JLampe (Prolegom. in Joan. Lib. I. cap. iii. § 12, note) allows the probability of such 
a visit, but strives to fix its date long before the destruction of Jerusalem ; yet offers 
no good reason for such a notion. 

India. — The story of the Jesuit missionaries is given by Baronius, (Ann. 44. § 30.) 
The story is, that letters from some of these missionaries, in 1555, give an account 
of their finding such a tradition, among an East Indian nation, called the Bassoras, 
who told them that the apostle John once preached the gospel in that region. No fur- 
ther particulars are given ; but this is enough to enable us to judge of the value of 
a story, dating fifteen centuries from the event which it commemorates. 

HIS RESIDENCE IN ASIA. 

The great mass of ancient stories about this apostle, take no 
notice at all of his residence in the far eastern regions, ou and 
beyond the Euphrates, but make mention of the countries inhab- 
ited by Greeks and Romans, as the scenes of the greater part of 
his long life, after the destruction of Jerusalem. The palpable 
reason of the character of these traditions, no doubt, is, that they 
all come from the very regions which they commemorate as the 
home of John ; and the authors of the stories being interested only 
to secure for their own region the honor of an apostolic visit, 
cared nothing about the similar glory of countries far eastward, 
with which they had no connection whatever, and of which they 
knew nothing. That region which is most particularly pointed 
out as the great scene of John's life and labors, is Asia, in the 
original, limited sense of the term, which includes only a small 
portion of the eastern border of the Aegean sea, as already de- 
scribed in the life of Peter. The most important place in this 
Little Asia, was Ephesus ; and in this famous city the apostle 
John is said to have spent the latter part of his life, after the 
great dispersion from Palestine. 

The motives of John's visit to Ephesus, are variously given 
by different writers, both ancient and modern. All refer the pri- 

40 



310 



JOHJS r . 



mary impulse to the Holy Spirit, which was the constant and un- 
erring guide of all the apostles in their movements abroad on the 
great mission of their Master. The divine presence of their Lord 
himself, too, was ever with them to support and encourage, in 
their most distant wanderings, even as he promised at parting, — - 
" Lo ! I am with you always, even to the end of the world," 
But historical investigation may very properly proceed with the 
inquiry into the real occasion which led him, under that divine 
guidance, to this distant city, among a people who were mostly 
foreign to him in language, habits and feelings, even though 
many of them owned the faith of Christ, and reverenced the 
apostle of his word. It is said, but not proved, that a division 
of the great fields of labor was made by the apostles among them- 
selves, about the time of the destruction of Jerusalem ; and that, 
when Andrew took Scythia, and others their sections of duty, 
Asia was assigned to John, who passed the rest of his life there 
accordingly. This field had already, indeed, been gone over by 
Paul and his companions, and already at Ephesus itself had a 
church been gathered, which was now flourishing under the pas- 
toral care of Timothy, who had been instructed and commission- 
ed for this very field, by Paul himself But these circumstances, 
so far from deterring the apostle John from presenting himself on 
a field of labor already so nobly entered, are supposed rather to 
have operated as incitements to draw him into a place where so 
solid a foundation had been laid for a complete fabric. As a cen- 
ter of missionary action, indeed, Ephesus certainly did possess 
many local advantages of a high order. The metropolis of 
all Asia Minor, — a noble emporium for the productions of that 
great section of the eastern continent, on whose farthest western 
shore it stood, — and a grand center for the traffic of the great Med- 
iterranean sea, whose waters rolled from that haven over the 
mighty shores of three continents, bearing, wherever they flowed, 
the ships of Ephesus, — this port offered the most ready and desi- 
rable means of intercourse with all the commercial cities of the 
world, from Tyre, or Alexandria, or Sinope. to the pillars of Her- 
cules, and gave the quickest and surest access to the gates of Rome 
itself. Its widely extended commerce, of course, drew around its 
gates a constant throng of people from many distant parts of the 
world, a few of whom, if imbued with the gospel, would thus be- 
come the missionaries of the word of truth to millions, where 
the name of Jesus was before unknown. And since, after the 



JOHN. 311 

death of all the other apostles, John survived alone, so long, it 
was desirable for all the Christian churches in the world, that 
the only living minister of the word who had been instructed 
from the lips of Jesus himself, should reside in some such place, 
where he might so easily be visited by all, and whence his instruc- 
tions might quickly go forth to all. His inspired counsels, and 
his wonder-working prayers, might be sought for all who needed 
them, and his apostolic ordinances might be heard and obeyed, 
almost at once, by the most distant churches. But the circum- 
stance, which more especially might lead the wanderer from the 
ruined city and homes of his fathers, to Ephesus, was the great 
gathering of Jews at this spot, who of course thus presented to 
the Jewish apostle an ample field for exertions, for which his nat- 
ural and acquired endowments best fitted him. 

In the account given in the Acts of the Apostles of Paul's visit 
To Ephesus, particular mention is made of a synagogue there, in 
which he preached and disputed daily, for a long period, with 
great effect. Yet Paul's labors had by no means attained such 
complete success among the Jews there, as to make it unnecessa- 
ry for another apostle to labor m the ministry of the circumcision, 
in that same place ; for it is especially .mentioned that Paul, after 
three months' active exertion in setting forth the truth in the syn- 
agogues, was induced by the consideration of the peculiar diffi- 
culties which beset him, among these proud and stubborn adhe- 
rents of the old Mosaic system, to withdraw himself from among 
them ; and during the remainder of his two years' stay, he devo- 
ted himself, for the most part, to the instruction of the willing 
Greeks, who opened the schools of philosophy for his teachings, 
with far more willingness than the Jews did their house of reli- 
gious assembly. And it appears that the greater part of his con- 
verts were rather among the Greeks than the Jews ; for in the 
great commotions that followed, the attack upon the preachers of 
Christianity was made entirely by a heathen mob, in which no Is- 
raelite seems to have had any hand whatever ; so that Paul had 
evidently made but little impression, comparatively, on the latter 
class. Among the Jews then, there was still a wide field open 
for the labors of one, consecrated, more especially, for the minis- 
try of the circumcision. The circumstances of the times, also, 
presented many advantages for a successful assault upon the reli- 
gious prejudices of his countrymen. The great Center of Unity 
for the race of Israel throughout the world, had now fallen into 



312 JOHN. 

an irretrievable oblivion, under the fire and sword of the invader. 
The glories of the ancient covenant seemed to have passed away 
forever ; and in the high devotion of the Jew, a blank was now 
left, by the destruction of the only temple of his ancient faith, 
which nothing else on earth could fill. Henceforth he might be 
trained to look for a spiritual temple, — a city eternal in the heav- 
ens, whose lasting foundations were laid by no mortal hand, for 
the heathen to sweep away in unholy triumph ; but whose builder 
and maker was God. Thus prepared, by the mournful consum- 
mation of their country's utter ruin, for the reception of a pure 
faith, the condition of the disconsolate Jews must have appeared 
in the highest degree interesting to the solitary surviving apostle 
of Jesus ; and he would naturally devote the remnant of his days 
to that portion of the world where he might make the deepest im- 
pression on them, and where his influence might spread widest to 
the scattered members of a people, then as now, eminently com- 
mercial. 

Under these peculiarly interesting circumstances, the Apostle 
John is supposed to have arrived at Ephesus,- where Timothy r 
still holding the episcopal chair in which he had been placed by 
the Apostle Paul, must have hailed with great delight the arrival 
of the venerable John, from whose instructions and counsels, he 
might hope to derive advantages so much the more welcome,, 
since the sword of the heathen persecution had removed his orig- 
inal apostolic teacher from the world. John must have been, at 
the time of his journey to Ephesus, considerably advanced in life. 
His precise age, or the date of his arrival, are altogether unknown, 
nor are there any fixed points on which the most critical and in- 
genious historical investigation can base any certain conclusion 
whatever, as to these interesting matters. Yarious and widely 
different have been the conclusions on these points ; — some fixing 
his journey to Ephesus in the reign of Claudius, long before the 
destruction of Jerusalem, and even before the council on the ques- 
tion of the circumcision. The true character of this tale can be 
best appreciated by a reference to another circumstance, which is 
gravely appended to it by its narrators ; — which is, that he was 
accompanied on this tour by the Virgin Mary, and that she lived 
there with him for a long time. This journey too, is thus made 
to precede the journey of Paul to Ephesus, by many years, and 
yet no account whatever is given of the reasons of the profound 
silence observed in the Acts of the Apostles, on an event so in> 



.TOHN, 313 

portant to the history of the propagation of the gospel, nor why 
John could have lived so long at Ephesus, and yet have effected 
so little, that when Paul came to the same place, the very name of 
Christ was new there. But such stories are not worth refuting, 
standing as they do, self-convicted falsehoods. Others however, 
are more reasonable, and date this journey in the year of the de- 
struction of Jerusalem, supposing that Ephesus was the first place 
of refuse to which the apostle went. But this conjecture is total- 
ly destitute of all ancient authority, and is inconsistent with, the 
very reasonable supposition adopted above, — -that he, in the flight 
from Jerusalem, first journeyed eastward, following the general 
current of the fugitives, towards the Euphrates. Where there is 
such a total want of all data, any fixed decision is out of the ques- 
tion ; but it is very reasonable to suppose that John's final depart- 
ure from the east did not take place till some years after this date; 
probably not until the reign of Domitian. (A. D. 81 or 82.) He 
had lived in Babylon therefore, till he had seen most of his breth- 
ren and friends pass away from his eyes. The venerable Peter 
had sunk into the grave, and had been followed by the rest of the 
apostolic band, until the youngest apostle, now grown old, found 
himself standing alone in the midst of a new generation, like one 
of the solitary columns of desolate Babylon, among the low dwell- 
ing places of its refugee inhabitants. But among the hourly 
crumbling heaps of that ruined city, and the fast-darkening regions 
of that half-savage dominion, there was each year less and less 
around him, on which his precious labor could be advantageously 
expended. Christianity never seizes readily on the energies of a 
broken or degenerating people, nor does it flourish where the in- 
fluences of civilization are losing their hold. Its exalted and ex- 
alting genius rather takes the spirits that are already on the wing 
for an upward course, and rises with them, giving new energy to 
the ascending movement. It may exert its elevating influence 
too, on the yet wild spirit of the uncivilized, and give, in the new 
conceptions of a pure faith and a high destiny, the first impulse to 
the advance of man towards refinement, in knowledge, and art, 
and freedom ; but its very existence among them is dependent on 
this forward and upivard movement, — and the beginning of its 
mortal decay dates from the cessation of the developments of the 
intellectual and physical resources of the race on which it ope- 
rates. Among the subjects of the Parthian empire, this downward 
movement was already fully decided ; and they were fast losing 



314 ^ johk. 

those refinements of feeling and thought on which the new faith 
could best fasten its spiritual and inspiring influences ; they 
therefore soon became but hopeless objects of missionary exertion, 
when compared with the active and enterprising inhabitants of 
the still improving regions of the west. " Westward" then, " the 
star" of Christianity as "of empire, took its way;" and the last of 
the apostles was but following, not leading, the march of his Lord's 
advancing dominion, when he shook oif the dust of the darkening 
eastern lands from his feet, forever ; turning his aged face towards 
the setting sun, to find in his latter days, a new home and a for- 
eign grave among the children of his brethren ; and to rejoice his 
old eyes with' the glorious sight of what God had done for the 
churches, among the flourishing cities of the west, that were still 
advancing under Grecian art and Roman sway. 

Epliesus. — On the importance of this place, as an apostolic station, the Magdeburg 
Centuriators are eloquent ; and such is the classic elegance of the Latin in which 
these moderns have expressed themselves, that the passage is worth giving entire, for 
the sake of those who can enjoy 1 he beauty of the original. " Considera mirabile 
Dei consilium. Joannes in Ephesnm ad littus maris Aegei collocatus est : ut inde, 
quasi e specula, retro suam Asiam videret, suaqne fragrantia repleret : ante se vero 
Graeciam, totamque Europam haberet; lit inde, tanquam tuba Domini sonora, etiam 
ultra-marinos populos suis concionibus ac scriptis inclamaret et invitaret ad Chris- 
tum ; presertim, cum ibi fuerit admodum commodus portus, plurimique mercatores 
ac homines peregrini ea loca adierint." The beauty of such a sentence is altogether 
beyond the force of English, and the elegant paronomasia which repeatedly occurs in 
it, increasing the power of the original expression to charm the ear and mind, is to- 
tally lost in a translation, but the meanings of the sentences may be given for the ben- 
efit of those readers to whom the Latin is not familiar. — "Regard the wonderful 
providence of God. John was stationed at Ephesus, on the shore of the Aegean sea ; 
so that there, as in a mirror, he might behold his peculiar province, Asia, behind 
him, and might fill it with the incense of his prayers : before him too, he had Greece 
and all Europe ; so that there, as with the far-sounding trumpet of the Lord, he might 
summon and invite to Christ, by his sermons and writings, even the nations beyond 
the sea, by the circumstance that there, was a most spacious haven, and that vast 
numbers of traders and travelers thronged to the place." 

Chrysostom speaks also of the importance of Ephesus as an apostolic station, allu- 
ding to it as a strong hold of heathen philosophy ; but there is no reason to think that 
John ever distinguished himself by any assaults upon systems with which he was not, 
and could never have been sufficiently acquainted to enable him to attack them ; for 
in order to meet an evil, it is necessary to understand it thoroughly. There is no hint 
of an acquaintance with philosophy in any part of his writings, nor does any histo- 
rian speak of his making converts among them. Chrysostom's words are, — " He 
fixed himself also in Asia, where anciently all the sects of Grecian philosophy culti- 
vated their sciences. There he flashed out in the midst of the foe, clearing away 
their darkness, and storming the very citadel of demons. And with this design 
he went to this place, so well suited to one who would work such wonders." (Horn. 1, 
in John.) 

The idea of John's visit to Ephesus, where Timothy was alread) r settled over the 
church as bishop, has made a great deal of trouble to those who stupidly confound the 
office of an apostle with that of a bishop, and are always degrading an apostle into a 
mere church-officer. Such blunderers of course, are put to a vast deal of pains to 
make out how Timothy could manage to keep possession of his bishopric, with the 
Apostle John in the same town with him ; for they seem to think that a bishop, like 
the flag-officer on a naval station, can hold the command of the post not a moment 
after a senior officer appears in sight ; but that then down comes the broad blue pen- 



JOHN. 315 

non to be sure, and never is hoisted again till the greater officer is off" beyond the ho- 
rizon. But no such idle arrangements of mere etiquette Were, ever suffered to mar 
the noble and useful simplicity of the primitive church government, in the least. The 
presence of an apostle in the same town with a bishop, could no more interfere with 
the regular function of the latter, than the presence of a diocesan bishop in any city 
of his diocese, excludes the rector of the church there, from his pastoral charge. 
The sacred duties of Timothy were those of the pastoral care of a single church — 
a sort of charge that no apostle ever assumed out of Jerusalem ; but John's apostolic 
duties led him to exercise a general supervision over a great number of churches. 
All those in Little Asia would claim his care alike, and the most distant would look 
to him for counsel ; while that in Ephesus, having been so well established by Paul, 
and being blessed by the pastoral care of Timothy, who had been instructed and com- 
missioned for that very place and duty, by him, would really stand in very little need 
of any direct attention from John. Yet among his Jewish brethren he would still find 
much occasion for his missionary labor, even in that city ; and this was the sort of 
duty which was most appropriate to his apostolic character ; for the apostles were 
missionaries and not bishops. 

Others pretend to say, however, that Timothy was dead when John arrived, and 
that John succeeded him in the bishopric, — a mere invention to get rid of the diffi- 
culty, and proved to be such by the assertion that the apostle was a bishop, and ren- 
dered suspicious also by the circumstance of Timothy being so young a man. 

The fable of the Virgin Mary's journey, in company with John, to Ephesus, has 
been very gravely supported by Baronius, (Ann. 44, § 29,) who makes it happen in 
the second year of the reign of Claudius, and quotes as his authority a groundless 
statement, drawn from a mis-translation of a synodical epistle from the council of 
Ephesus to the clergy at Constantinople, containing a spurious passage which alludes 
to this story, condemning the Nestorians as heretics, for rejecting the, tale. There are, 
and have long been, however, a yast number of truly discreet and learned Roman- 
ists, who have scorned to receive such contemptible and useless inventions. Among 
these, the learned Antony Pagus, in his Historico-Chronological Review of Baroni- 
us, has utterly refuted the whole story, showing the spurious character of the pas- 
sage quoted in its support. (Pag. Crit. Baron. An. 42. § 3.) Lampe quotes more- 
over, the Abbot Facditius, the Trevoltian collectors and Combefisius, as also refu- 
ting the fable. Among the Protestant critics, Rivetus and Basnage have discussed 
the same point. 

Of the incidents of John's life at Ephesus, no well authorized 
account whatever can be given. Yet on this part of apostolic 
history the Fathers are uncommonly rich in details, which are in- 
teresting, and some of which present no improbability on exam- 
ination ; but their worst character is, that they do not make their 
appearance until above one hundred years after the date of the 
incidents which they commemorate, and refer to no authority 
but loose and floating tradition. In respect to these, too, occurs 
exactly the same difficulty which has already been specified in 
connection with the traditionary history of Peter,— that the same 
early writers, who record as true these stories which are so proba- 
ble and reasonable in their character, also present in the same 
grave manner other stories, which do bear, with them, on their 
very faces, the evidence of their utter falsehood, in their palpable 
and monstrous absurdity. Among the possible and probable in- 
cidents of John's life, narrated by the Fathers, are a journey to 
Jerusalem, and one also to Rome, — but of these there is no certain- 
ty, nor any acceptable evidence. These long journeys, too, are 



316 JOHN. 

wholly without any sufficient assigned object, which would in- 
duce so old a man to leave his quiet and useful residence at Eph- 
esuSj to travel hundreds and thousands of miles. The churches 
of both Rome and Jerusalem were under well organized govern- 
ments, which were perfectly competent to the administration of 
their own affairs, without the presence of an apostle ; or, if they 
needed his counsel in an emergency, he could communicate his 
opinions to them with great certainty, by message, and with far 
more quickness and ease, than by a journey to them. Such an 
occasion for a direct call on him, however, could but very rarely 
occur, — nor would so unimportant an event as the death of one 
bishop and the installation of another, ever induce him to take a 
journey to sanction a mere formality by his presence. His help 
certainly was not needed by any church out of his own little 
Asian circle, in the selection of proper persons to fill vacant offi- 
ces of government or instruction. They knew best their own 
wants, and the abilities of their own members to exercise any 
official duty to which they might be called ; while John, a perfect 
stranger to most of them, would feel neither disposed nor qual- 
ified for meddling with any part of the internal policy of other 
churches. But the principal condemnation of the statement of his 
journey to Rome is contained in the foolish story connected with 
it, by its earliest narrator, — that on his arrival there, he was, by 
order of the emperor Domitian, thrown into a vessel full of hot 
oil ; but, so far from receiving the slightest injury from such a 
frying, he came out of this greasy place of torture, quite im- 
proved in every respect by the immersion ; and, as the story goes, 
arose from it perfumed like an athleta anointed for the combat. 
There are very great variations, however, in the different narra- 
tions of this affair ; some representing the event as having occur- 
red in Ephesus, under the orders of the proconsul of Asia, and 
not in Rome, under the emperor, as the earlier form of the fable 
states. Among the statements which fix the scene of this mira- 
cle in Rome, too, there is a very important chronological differ- 
ence, — some dating it under the emperor Nero, which would carry 
it back as early as the time of Peter's fabled martyrdom, and im- 
plies a total contradiction of all established opinions on his pro- 
longed residence in the east. In short, the whole story is so 
completely covered over with gross blunders and contradictions 
about times and places, that it can not receive any place among 
the details of serious and well-authorized history. 



JOHN. 317 

Thrown into a vessel of oil.— This greasy story has a tolerably respectable antiquity, 
going farther back with its authorities than any other fable in the Christian mythol- 
ogy, except Justin Martyr's story about Simon Magus. The earliest authority for this 
is Tertullian, (A. D. 200,) who says that " at Rome, the Apostle John, having been 
immersed in hot oil, suffered no harm at all from it." (De Praescript. adv. Haer. c. 
36.) " In oleum igneum immersus nihil passus est." But for nearly two hundred 
years after, no one of the Fathers refers to this fable. Jerome (A. D. 397.; is the 
next of any certain date, and speaks of it in two passages. In the first (adv. Jovin. 
I. 14,) he quotes Tertullian as authority, but bunglingly says, that " he was thrown 
into the kettle by order of Nero" — a most palpable error, not sanctioned by Tertul- 
lian. In the second passage, (Comm. in Matt. xx. 23,) he furthermore refers in gen- 
eral terms to " ecclesiastical histories, in which it was said that John, on account of 
his testimony concerning Christ, was thrown into a kettle of boiling oil, and came 
out thence like an athleta, to win the crown of Christ." From these two sources, the 
other narrators of the story have drawn it. Of the modern critics and historians, be- 
sides the great herd of Papists, several Protestants are quoted by Lampe, as strenu- 
ously defending it ; and several of the greatest, who do not absolutely receive it as 
true, yet do not presume to decide against it ; as the Magdeburg Centuriators, 
(Cent. 1, lib. 2. c. 10,) who however declare it very doubtful indeed, " rem mcertissi- 
mam ;" — Ittig,Le Clerc and Mosheim taking the same ground. But Meisner, Cella- 
rius, Dodwell, Spanheim, Heuniann and others, overthrow it utterly, as a baseless fa- 
ble. They argue against it first, from the bad character of its only ancient witness. 
Tertullian is well known as most miserably credulous, and fond of catching up these 
idle tales ; and even the devoutly credulous Baronius condemns him in the most 
unmeasured terms for his greedy and undiscriminating love of falsehood. Secondly, 
ihey object the profound silence of all the Fathers of the second, third and fourth 
centuries, excepting him and Jerome ; whereas, if such a remarkable incident were 
of any authority whatever, those numerous occasions on which they refer to the ban- 
ishment of John to Patmos, which Tertullian connects so closely with this story, 
would suggest and require a notice of the causes and attendant circumstances of that 
banishment, as stated by him. How could those eloquent writers, who seem to dwell 
with so much delight on the noble trials and triumphs of the apostles, pass over this 
wonderful peril and miraculous deliverance 1 Why did Irenaeus, so studious in ex- 
tolling the glory of John, forget to specify an incident implying at once such a cour- 
ageous spirit of martyrdom in this apostle, and such a peculiar favor of God, in thus 
wonderfully preserving him % Hippolytus and Sulpitius Severus too, are silent ; and 
more than all, Eusebius, so diligent in scraping together all that can heap up the mar- 
tyr-glories of the apostles, and more particularly of John himself, is here utterly with- 
out a word on this interesting event. Origen, too, dwelling on the modes in which 
the two sons of Zebedee drank the cup of Jesus, as he prophesied, makes no use of 
this valuable illustration. 

On the origin of this fable, Lampe mentions a very ingenious conjecture, that some 
such act of cruelty may have been meditated or threatened, but afterwards given up ; 
and that thence the story became accidentally so perverted as to make what was 
merely designed, appear to have been partly put in execution. 

In this decided condemnation of the venerable Tertullian, I am justified by the ex- 
ample of Lampe, whose reverence for the authority of the Fathers is much greater 
than that of most theologians of later days. He refers to him in these terms : " Ter- 
tullianus, cujus credulitas, in arripiendis futilibus narratiunculis alias non ignota est." 
— " Whose credulity in catching up idle tales is well known in other instances." 
Haenlein also calls him " der leichtglaubige Tertullian," — "the credulous Tertulli- 
an." (Haenlein's Einleitung in N. T. vol. III. p. 166.) 

This miraculous event procured the highly-favored John, by this extreme unction, 
all the advantages with none of the disadvantages of martyrdom ; for in consequence 
of this peril he has received among the Fathers the name of a " living martyr." 
(%oo)v {naprvo.) Gregory of Nazianzus, Chrysostom, Athanasius, Theophylact and oth- 
ers, quoted by Suicer, [sub voce fj-aprvp,] apply this term to him. " He had the mind 
though not the fate of a martyr." " Non defuit animus martyrio," &c. [Jerome and 
Cyprian.] Through ignorance of the meaning of the word /Jtaprvp, in this peculiar ap- 
plication to John, the learned Haenlein seems to me to have fallen into an error on 
the opinion of these Fathers about his mode of death. In speaking of the general tes- 
timony as to the quiet death of this apostle, Haenlein says : " But Chrysostom, only 
in one ambiguous passage, (Horn. 63 in Matt.) and his follower Theophylact, nimi- 

41 



318 



JOHN. 



ber the Apostle John among the martyrs." [Haenlein's Emleitung m das N. 1 
III. chap. vi. § 1, p. 1(58.] The fact is, that not only these two, but several other Fa- 
thers, use the term in application to John, and they all do it without any implication 
of an actual, fatal martyrdom ; as may be seen by a reference to Suieer, sub voce. 

So little reverence have the critical, even among the Romanists, for any of these 
old stories about John's adventures, that the sagacious Abbot Facditius (quoted by 
Lampe) quite turns these matters into a jest. Coupling this story with the one about 
John's chaste celibacy, (as supported by the monachists,) he says, in reference to the 
latter, that if John made out to preserve his chastity uncontaminated among such a 
people as the Jews were, in that most corrupt age, he should consider it a greater mir- 
acle than if John had come safe out of the kettle of boiling oil ; but on the reverend 
Abbot's sentiment, perhaps many will remark with Lampe, — " quod pronuntiatum ta- 
men nimis audax est." — " It is rather too bold to pronounce such an opinion." Nev- 
ertheless, such a termination of life would be so much in accordance with the stan- 
dard mode of dispatching an apostle, that they would never have taken him out of the 
oil-kettle, except for the necessity of sending him to Patmos, and dragging him on 
through multitudes of odd adventures yet to come. So we might then have had the 
satisfaction of winding up his story, in the literal and happy application of the words 
of a certain venerable poetical formula for the conclusion of a nursery tale, which 
here makes not only rhyme but reason, — 



HIS BANISHMENT. 

This fable of his journey to Rome is by all its propagators 
connected with the well-authorized incident of his banishment to 
Patmos. This event, given on the high evidence of the Revela- 
tion which bears his name, is by all the best and most ancient au- 
thorities, referred to the period of the reign of Domitian. The 
precise year is as much beyond any means of investigation, as 
most other exact dates in his and all the other apostles' history. 
Prom the terms in which the ancient writers commemorate the 
event, it is known, with tolerable certainty, to have occurred to- 
wards the close of the reign of Domitian, though none of the 
early Fathers specify the year. The first who pretend to fix the 
date, refer it to the fourteenth year of that emperor, and the most 
critical among the moderns fix it as J ate ; and some even in the 
fifteenth or last year of his reign ; since that persecution of the 
Christians, during which John seems to have been banished, may 
be fairly presumed, from the known circumstances as recorded in 
history, to have been the last great series of tyrannical acts com- 
mitted by this remarkably wicked monarch. It certainly appears^ 
from distinct assertions in the credible records of ecclesiastical 
history, that there was a great persecution begun about this time 
by Domitian, against the Christians ; but there is no reasonable 
doubt that the extent and vindictiveness of it has been very much 
overrated, in the rage among the later Fathers, for multiplying the 
sufferings of the early Christians far beyond the truth. The 
first Christian writers who allude to this persecution very partfc 



joiin* 319 

tilarly, specify its character as far less aggravated than that of 
Nero, of which they declare it to have been but a shadow, — and 
the persecutor himself but a mere fraction of Nero in cruelty. 
There is not a single authenticated instance of any person's hav- 
ing suffered death in this persecution ; all the creditable histori- 
ans who describe it, most particularly demonstrate that the whole 
range of punishments inflicted .on the subjects of it, was confined 
to banishment merely. Another reason for supposing that this 
attack on the Christians was very moderate in its character, is the 
important negative fact, that not one heathen historian makes the 
slightest mention of any trouble with the new sect, during that 
bloody reign ; although such repeated, vivid accounts are given 
of the dreadful persecution waged by Nero, as related above, in 
the Life of Peter. It is reasonable to suppose, therefore, that 
there were no great cruelties practised on them ; but that many 
of them, who had become obnoxious to the tyrant and his min- 
ions, were quietly put out of the way, that they might occasion 
no more trouble, — being sent from Rome and some of the princi- 
pal cities, into banishment, along with many others whose remo- 
val was considered desirable by the rulers of Rome or the prov- 
inces ; so that the Christians, suffering- with many others, and 
some of high rank and character, a punishment of no very cruel 
nature, were not distinguished by common narrators, from the 
general mass of the banished ; but were noticed more partic- 
ularly by the writers of their own order, who thus specified cir- 
cumstances that otherwise would not have been made known. 
Among those driven out from Ephesus at this time, John was in- 
cluded, probably on no special accusation otherwise than that of be- 
ing prominent as the last survivor of the original founders, among 
these members of the new faith, who by their pure lives were a 
constant reproach to the open vices of the proud heathen around 
them ; and by their refusal to conform to idolatrous observances, 
exposed themselves to the charge of non-conformity to the estab- 
lished religion of the state, — an offence of the highest order 
even among the Romans, whose tolerance of new religions was 
at length limited by the requisition, that no doctrine whatever 
should be allowed to aim directly at the overthrow of the set- 
tled order of things. When, therefore, it began to be apprehend- 
ed that the religion of Jesus would, in its progress, overcome the 
securities of the ancient worship of the Olympian gods, those 
who felt their interests immediately connected with the system of 



320 



JOHN. 



idolatry, in their alarmed zeal for its support, made rise of the 
worst specimens of imperial tyranny to check the advancing evil. 

PATHOS. 

The place chosen for his banishment was a dreary desert island 
in the Aegean sea, called Patmos. It is situated among that clus- 
ter of islands, called the Sporades, about twenty miles from the 
Asian coast, and thirty or forty southwest of Ephesus. It is at 
this day known by the observation of travelers, to be a most re- 
markably desolate place, showing hardly anything but bare rocks, 
on which a few poor inhabitants make but a wretched subsistence, 
In this insulated desert the aged apostle was doomed to pass the 
lonely months, far away from the enjoyments of Christian com- 
munion and social intercourse, so dear to him, as the last earthly 
consolation of his life. Yet to him, his residence at Ephesus 
was but a place of exile. Far away were the scenes of his youth 
and the graves of his fathers. tt The shore whereon he loved to 
dwell," — the lake on whose waters he had so often sported or la- 
bored in the freshness of early years, were still the same as ever, 
and others now labored there, as he had done ere he was called 
to a higher work. But the homes of his childhood knew him no 
more forever, and rejoiced now in the light of the countenances 
of strangers, or lay in blackening desolation beneath the brand of 
a wasting invasion. The waters and the mountains were there 
still, — they are there now ; but that which to him constituted all 
their reality was gone then, as utterly as now. The ardent 
friends, the dear brother, the faithful father, the fondly ambitious 
and loving mother,— who made up his little world of life, and jo}r, 
and hope,, — where were they ? All were gone ; even his own for- 
mer self was gone too, and the joys, the hopes, the thoughts, the 
views of those early days, were buried as deeply as the friends 
of his youth, and far more irrevocably than they. Cut off thus 
utterly from all that once excited the earthly and merely human 
emotions within him, the whole world was alike a desert or a 
home, according as he found in it communion with God, and 
work for his remaining energies, in the cause of Christ. Wherev- 
er he went, he bore about with him his resources of enjoy- 
ment, — his home was within himself; the friends of his youth 
and manhood were still before him in the ever fresh images of 
their glorious examples ; the brother of his heart was near him 
always, and nearest now. when the persecutions of imperial tyran- 
ny seemed to draw him towards a sympathetic participation in the 



JOHN. 321 

pains and the glories of that bloody death. The Lord of his life, 
the author of his hopes, the guide of his youth, the cherisher of 
his spirit, was over and around him ever, with the consolations of 
his promised presence, — " with him always, even to the end of the 

world." 

THE APOCALYPSE. 

The Revelation of John the Divine opens with a moving and 
splendid view of these circumstances. Being, as it is recorded, in 
the isle that is called Patrnos, for preaching the word of God, and 
for bearing witness of Jesus Christ, he was in his lonely banish- 
ment, one Lord's day, sitting wrapped in a holy spiritual contem- 
plation, when he heard behind him a great voice, as of a trumpet, 
which broke upon his startled ear with a most solemnly grand an- 
nunciation of the presence of one whose being was the source 
and end of all things. As the amazed apostle turned to see the 
person from whom came such portentous words, there met his 
eye a vision so dazzling, yet appalling in its beauty and splendor, 
amid the bare, dark rocks around, that he fell to the earth without 
life, and lay motionless until the heavenly being, whose awful glo- 
ries had so overwhelmed him, recalled him to his most vivid en- 
ergies, by the touch of his life-giving hand. In the lightning- 
splendors of that countenance, far outshining the glories of Sinai, 
reflected from the face of Moses, the trembling eye of the apostol- 
ic seer recognized the lineaments of one whom he had known in 
other days, and upon whose bosom he had hung in the warm af- 
fection of youth. Even the eye which now flashed such rays, he 
knew to be that which had once been turned on him in the as- 
pect of familiar love ; nor did its glance now bear a strange or 
forbidding expression. The trumpet-tones of the voice, which of 
old, on Hermon, roused him from the stupor into which he fell at 
the sight of the foretaste of these very glories, now recalled him 
to life in the same encouraging words, " Be not afraid." The cru- 
cified and ascended Jesus, living, though once dead, now called 
on his beloved apostle to record the revelations which should soon 
burst upon his eyes and ears ; that the churches that had lately 
been under his immediate attention, might learn the approach of 
events which most nearly concerned the advance of their faith. 
First, therefore, addressing an epistolary charge to each of the 
seven churches, he called them to a severe account for their vari- 
ous errors, and gave to each such consolations and. promises as 
were suited to its peculiar circumstances. Then dropping these 



322 John. 

individualizing exhortations, he leaves all the details of the past, 
and the minutiae of the state of the seven churches, for a glance 
over the events of coming ages, and the revolutions of empires and 
of worlds. The full explanation of the scenes which follow, is 
altogether beyond the range of a mere apostolic historian, and 
would require such ability and learning in the writer, — such a 
length of time for their application to this matter, and such an ex- 
panse of paper for their full expression, as are altogether out of 
the question in this case. Some few points in this remarkable 
writing, however, fall within the proper notice of the apostle's bi- 
ographer, and some questions on the scope of the Apocalypse it- 
self, as well as on the history of it, as a part of the sacred canon, 
will therefore be here discussed. 

The minute history of the apostolic writings, — the discussion 
of their particular scope and tenor, — and the evidences of their 
inspiration and authenticity, — are topics, which fall for the most 
part under a distinct and independent department of Christian 
theology, the common details of which are alone sufficient to fill 
many volumes ; and are of course altogether beyond the compass 
of a work, whose main object is limited to a merely historical 
branch of religious knowledge. Still, such inquiries into these 
deeper points, as truly concern the personal history of the apos- 
tles, are proper subjects of attention, even here. The life of no 
literary or scientific man is complete, which does not give such 
an account of his writings as will show under what circumstan- 
ces, — with what design, — for what persons, — and at what time, 
they were written. But a minute criticism of their style, or il- 
lustrations of their meaning, or a detail of all the objections 
which have been made to them, might fairly be pronounced im- 
proper intrusions upon the course of the narrative. With the 
danger of such an extension of these investigations, in view, this 
work here takes up those points in the history of John's writings, 
that seem to fall under the general rule in making up a personal 
and literary biography. 

In the case of this particular writing, moreover, the difficul- 
ties of an enlarged discussion are so numerous and complicated, 
as to offer an especial reason to the apostolic historian, for avoid- 
ing the almost endless details of questions that have agitated the 
greatest minds in Christendom, for the last four hundred years. 
And the decision of the most learned and sagacious of modern 



juHN, 323 

critics, pronounces the Apocalypse of John to be " the most diffi- 
cult and doubtful book of the New Testament." 

The points proper for inquiry in connection with a history of 
the life of John, may be best arranged in the form of questions 
with their answers severally following. 

I. Did the Apostle John write the Apocalypse 1 

Many will doubtless feel disposed to question the propriety of thus bringing out, in 
a popular book, inquiries which have hitherto, by a .sort of common consent, been 
confined to learned works, and wholly excluded from such as a,re intended to convey 
religious knowledge to ordinary readers. The principle has been sometimes distinct- 
ly .specified and maintained, that some established truths in exegetical theology, must 
needs be always kept among the arcana of religious knowledg-e, for the eyes and ears 
of the learned few, to whom " it is given to know these mysteries ;" " but that to them 
that are without," they are ever to remain unknown. This principle is often acted 
on by the theologians of Germany and England, so that a distinct line seems to be 
drawn between an exoteric and an esoteric doctrine, — a public and a private belief, — 
the latter being the literal truth, while the former is such a view of things, as suits 
the common religious prejudices of the mass of hearers and readers. But such is not 
the free spirit of true Protestantism; nor is any deceitful doctrine of " accommoda- 
tion" accordant with the open, single-minded honesty of apostolic teachings. Ta- 
king from the persons who are the subjects of this history, something of their sim- 
ple freedom of word and action, for the reader's benefit, several questions will be 
boldly asked, and as boldly answered, on the authorship, the scope, and character of 
the Apocalypse. And first, on the present personal question in hand, a spirit of toler- 
ant regard for opinions discordant with those of some readers, perhaps may be best 
learned, by observing into what uncertainties the minds of the greatest and most de- 
vout of theologians, and of the mighty founders of the Protestant faith, have been led 
on this very point. 

The great Michaelis (Introd. vol. IV. c. xxxiii. § 1.) apologizes for his own doubts 
on the Apocalypse, justifying himself by the similar uncertainty of the immortal Lu- 
ther ; and the remarks of Michaelis upon the character of the persons to whom Luther 
thus boldly published his doubts, will be abundantly sufficient to justify the discussion 
of such darkly deep matters, to the readers of the Lives of the Apostles. 

Not only Martin Luther as here quoted by Michaelis, but the other great reformers 
of that age, John Calvin and Ulric Zwingle, boldly expressed their doubts on this 
book, which more modern speculators have made so miraculously accordant with 
anti-papal notions. Their learned cotemporary, Erasmus, also, and the critical Jo- 
seph Scaliger, with other great names of past ages, have contributed their doubts, to 
add a new mark of suspicion to the Apocalypse. 

" As it is not improbable that this cautious method of proceeding will give offense 
to some of my readers, I must plead in my behalf the example of Luther, who thought 
and acted precisely in the same manner. His sentiments on this subject are deliver- 
ed, not in an occasional dissertation on the Apocalypse, but in the preface to his Ger- 
man translation of it, a translation designed not merely for the learned, but for the il- 
literate, and even for children. In the preface prefixed to that edition, which was 
printed in 1522, he expressed himself in very strong terms. In this preface he says : 
' In this book of the Revelation of St. John, I leave it to every person to judge for 
himself: I will bind no man to my opinion ; I say only what I feel. Not one thing 
only fails in this book ; so that I hold it neither for apostolical, nor prophetical. First 
and chiefly, the apostles do not prophesy in visions, but in clear and plain words, as 
St. Peter, St. Paul, and Christ in the gospel do. It is moreover the apostle's duly to 
speak of Christ and his actions in a simple way, not in figures and visions. Also no 
prophet of the Old Testament, much less of the New, has so treated throughout his 
whole book of nothing but visions : so that 1 put it almost in the same rank with the 
fourth book of Esdras, and cannot any way find that it was dictated by the Holy Ghost. 
Lastly, let every one think of it what his own spirit suggests. My spirit can make 
nothing out of this book; and I have reason enough not to esteem it highly, since 
Christ is not taught in it, which an apostle is above all things bound to do, as he says, 
(Acts i.) Ye are my witnesses. Therefore I abide l>v the books which teach Christ 
clearly and purely.' 



m 



JOHN, 



" Bat in that which he printed in 1534, he used milder and less decisive expres- 
sions. In. the preface to this later edition, he divides prophecies into three class- 
es, the third of which contains visions, without explanations of them ; and of 
these he says : ' As long as a prophecy remains unexplained and has no determinate 
interpretation, it is a hidden silent prophecy, and is destitute of the advantages which 
it ought to afford to Christians. This has hitherto happened to the Apocalypse : for 
though many have made the attempt, no one to the present day, has brought any 
thing certain out of it, but several have made incoherent stuff out of their own brain. 
On account of these uncertain interpretations, and hidden senses, we have hitherto 
left it to itself, especially since some of the ancient Fathers believed that it w r as not 
written by the apostle, as is related in Lib. III. Hist. Eccles. In this uncertainty we, 
for our part, still let it remain : but do not prevent others from taking it to be the w T ork 
of St. John the apostle, if they choose. And because I should be glad to see a certain 
interpretation of it, I will afford to other and higher spirits occasion to reflect.' 

" Still however, he declared he was not convinced that the Apocalypse was canoni- 
cal, and recommended the interpretation of it to those who were more enlightened than 
himself. If Luther then, the author of our reformation, thought and acted in this 
manner, and the divines of the last two centuries still continued, without the charge of 
heresy, to print Luther's preface to the Apocalypse, in the editions of the German Bi- 
ble of which they had the superintendence, surely no one of the present age ought to 
censure a writer for the avowal of similar doubts. Should it be objected that what 
was excusable in Luther would be inexcusable in a modern divine, since more light 
has been thrown on the subject than there had been in the sixteenth century, 1 would 
ask in what this light consists. If it consists in newly discovered testimonies of the 
ancients, they are rather unfavorable to the cause ; for the canon of the Syrian church, 
which was not known in Europe when Luther wrote, decides against it. On the other 
hand, if this light consists in a more clear and determinate explanation of the proph- 
ecies contained in the Apocalypse, which later commentators have been able to make 
out, by the aid of history, I would venture to appeal to a synod of the latest and most 
zealous interpreters of it, such as Vitringa, Lange, Oporin, Heumann, and Bengel, 
names which are free from all suspicion ; and I have not the least doubt, that at every 
interpretation which I pronounced unsatisfactory, I should have at least three voices 
out of the five in my favor. At all events they" would never be unanimous against 
me, in the places where I declared that I was unable to perceive the new light, which 
is supposed to have been thrown on the subject since the time of Luther. 

" I admit that Luther uses too harsh expressions, where he speaks of the epistle of 
St. James, though in a preface not designed for Christians of every denomination : 
but his opinion of the Apocalypse is delivered in terms of the utmost diffidence, which 
are well worthy of imitation. And this is so much the more laudable, as the Apoc- 
alypse is a book, which Luther's opposition to the church of Rome must have ren- 
dered highly acceptable to him, unless he had thought impartially, and had refused to 
sacrifice his own doubts to polemical considerations." 

To pretend to decide with certainty on a point, which Martin Luther boldly denied, 
and which John David Michaelis modestly doubted, implies neither superior know- 
ledge of the truth, nor a more holy reverence for it ; but rather marks a mere pre- 
sumptuous self-confidence, and an ignorant bigotry, arising from the prejudices of ed- 
ucation. Yet from the deep researches of the latter of these writers, and of other ex- 
egetical theologians since, much maybe drawn to support the view taken in the text 
of this Life of John, which is accordant with the common notion of its authorship. The 
quotation just given, however, is valuable as inculcating the propriety of hesitation 
and moderation in pronouncing upon results. 

The testimony of the Fathers, on the authenticity of the Apocalypse as a Avork of 
John, the apostle, may be very briefly alluded to here. The full details of this impor- 
tant evidence may be found by the scholar in J. D. Michaelis's Introd. to the N. T. 
(Vol. IV. c. xxxiii. § 2.) Hug's do. (Vol. II. § 176.) Lardner's Credibility of Gosp. 
Hist. (Supp. chap. 22.) Fabricii Bibliotheca Graeca. (Harles's 4to. edit, with Keil's, 
Kuinoel's, Gurlitt's, and Heyne's notes, vol. IV. pp. 786 — 795, corresp. vol. III. pp. 
116 — 119, of the first edition.) Lampe, Prolegomena in Joan. 

Juslin Martyr (A. D. 140,) is the first who mentions this book. He says, "A man 
among us, named John, one of the apostles of Christ, has, in a revelation which was 
made to him, prophesied.," &c. Melito (A. D. 177.) is quoted by Euscbius and by Je- 
rome, as having written a treatise on the Revelation. .He was bishop of Sardis, one 
of the seven churches, and his testimony would be therefore highly valuable, if it 



JOHN. 



325 



were certain whether he wrote for or against the authenticity of the work. Probably 
he was for it, since he calls it '"the Apocalypse of John," in the title of his treatise, 
and the silence of Eusebius about the opinion of Melito may fairly be construed as 
showing that he did not write against it. Irenaeus, (A. D. 178,) who in his younger 
days was acquainted with Polycarp, the disciple and personal friend of John, often 
quotes this book as " the Revelation of John, the disciple of the Lord." And in another 
place, he says, " It was seen not long ago, almost in our own age, at the end of the 
reign of Domitian" This is the most direct and valuable kind of testimony which 
the writings of the Fathers can furnish on any point in apostolic history; for Irenaeus 
here speaks from personal knowledge, and, as will be hereafter shown, throws 
great light on the darkest passage in the Apocalypse, by what he had heard from 
those persons who had seen John himself, face to face, and who heard these things from 
his own lips. Theophilus of Antioch, (A. D. 181,)— Clemens of Alexandria, (A. D. 
194,)— Tertullian of Carthage, (A. D. 200,)— Apollonius of Ephesus, (A. D. 211,)— 
Hippolytus of Italy, (A. D, 220,)— Origen of Alexandria and Caesarea, (A. D. 230,) 
— all received and quoted it as a work of John the apostle, and some testify very fully 
as to the character of the evidence of its authenticity, received from their predeces- 
sors and from the contemporaries of John. 

But from about the middle of the third century, it fell under great suspicion of be- 
ing the production of some person different from the apostle John. Having been quo- 
ted by Cerinthus and his disciples, (a set of Gnostical heretics, in the first century,) 
in support of their views, it was, by some of their opponents, pronounced to be a fab- 
rication of Cerinthus himself. At this later period, however, it suffered a much more 
general condemnation; but though denied by some to be an apostolic work, it was still 
almost universally granted to be inspired. Dionysius of Alexandria, (A. D. 250,) in 
a book against the Millenarians, who rested their notions upon the millenial passa- 
ges of this revelation, has endeavored to make the Apocalypse useless to them in 
support of their heresy. This he has done by referring to the authority of some of 
his predecessors, who rejected it on account of its maintaining Cerinthian doctrines, 
This objection however, has been ably refuted by modern writers, especially by Mi- 
chaelis and Hug, both of whom, distinctly show that there are many passages in the 
Revelation, so perfectly opposite to the doctrines of Cerinthus, that he could never 
have written the book, although he may have been willing to quote from it such pas- 
sages as accorded with his notions about a sensual millenium,— as he could in this 
v/ay meet those, who did take the book for an inspired writing. 

Dionysius himself, however, does not pretend to adopt this view of the authorship 
of it, but rather thinks that it was the work of John the presbyter, who lived in Eph- 
esus in the age of John the apostle, and had probably been confounded with him by 
the early Fathers. This John is certainly spoken of by Papias, (A. D. 120,) who 
knew personally both him and the apostle; but Papias has left nothing on the Apoc- 
alypse, as the work of either of them. (The substance of the whole argument of 
Dionysius is very elaborately given and reviewed, by both Michaelis and Hug.) Af- 
ter this bold attack, the apostolic character of the work seems to have received much 
injury among most of the eastern Fathers, and was generally rejected by both the 
Syrian and Greek churches, having no place in their New Testament canon. Euse- 
bius, (A. D. 315,) who gives the first list of the writings of the New Testament, that 
is known, divides all books which had ever been offered as apostolical, into three 
classes, — the universally acknowledged, ('ono^oyovneva homologoumena,) — the dispu- 
ted, (avTiXsyopsva antilegomena,) — and the spurious, (vo$-a notha.) In the first class, 
he puts all now received into the New Testament, except the epistle to the He- 
brews, the epistles of James and Jude, the second of Peter, the second and third of 
John, and the Revelation. These exceptions he puts into the second, or disputed 
class, along with sundry writings now universally considered apocryphal. Eusebius 
says also, " It is likely that the Revelation was seen by John the presbyter, if not by 
John the apostle."— Cyril of Jerusalem, (A. D. 348,) in his catalogue of the Scrip- 
tures, does not allow this a place. Epiphanius of Salamis, in Cyprus, (A. D. 368,) 
though himself receiving it as of apostolic origin, acknowledged that others in 
his time rejected it. The council of Laodicea, (A. D. 363,) sitting in the seat of 
one of the seven churches, did not give the Revelation a place among the sacred wri- 
tings of the New Testament, though their list includes all others now received. 
Gregory, of Nazianzus, in Cappadocia, (A. D. 370,) gives a catalogue of the canon- 
ical scriptures, but excludes the Revelation. Amphilochius, of Iconium, in Lycao- 
nia, (A. D. 370,) in mentioning the canonical scriptures, says, " The Revelation of 

42 



326 john, 

John is approved by some ; but many say it is spurious." The scriptural canon of 
the Syrian churches rejects it, even as given by Ebed Jesu, in 1285 ; nor was it in 
the ancient Syriac version completed during the first century,, but the reason for this 
may be, that the Revelation was not then promulgated.— Jerome of Rome, (A. D. 
396,) receives it, as do all the Latin Fathers; but he says, "the Greek churches re- 
ject it." — Chrysostom (A. D. 398,) never quotes it, and is not supposed to have receiv- 
ed it. Augustin, of Africa, (A. D. 395,) receives it, but says that it was not received 
by all in his time. Theodoret, (A. D. 423,) of Syria, and all the ecclesiastics of that 
country, reject it also. 

The result of all this evidence is, as will be observed by glancing over the dates of 
the Fathers quoted, that, until the year 250, no writer can be found who scrupled to 
receive the Apocalypse as the genuine w r ork of John the apostle, — that the further 
back the Fathers are, the more explicit and satisfactory is their testimony in its fa- 
vor, — and that the fullest of all, is that of Irenaeus, who had his information fromPo- 
lycarp, the most intimate and beloved disciple of John himself. Now, where the ev- 
idence is not of the ordinary cumulative character, growing weighty, like a snow- 
ball, the farther it travels from its original starting-place, but as here, is strongest at 
the source, — it may justly be pronounced highly valuable, and an eminent exception 
to the usual character of such historical proofs, which, as has been plentifully shown 
already in this book, are too apt to come "but-end first," as the investigator travels 
from the last to the first. It will be observed also, by a glance at the places where 
these Fathers flourished, that all those who rejected the Apocalypse belonged to the 
eastern section of the churches, including both the Greeks and the Syrians, while the 
western churches, both the Europeans and Latino-Africans, adopted the Apocalypse 
as an apostolic writing. This is not so fortunate a concurrence as that of the dates, 
since tlie easterns certainly had better means of investigating such a point than the 
westerns. A reason may be suggested for this, in the circumstance, that the Cerinthi- 
ans and other heretics, who were the occasion of the first rejection of the Apocalypse, 
annoyed only the eastern churches, and thus originated the mischief only among 
them. Lampe, Michaelis and others, indeed, quote Caius of Rome, as a solitary ex- 
ception to this geographical distribution of the difficulty, but Paulus and Hug have 
shown that the passage in Caius, to which they refer, has been misapprehended, as 
the scholar may see by a reference to Hug's Introd., vol. II. pp. 647 — 650, [Wait's 
translation,] pp. 593-596, [original.] There is something in Jerome too, w-hich implies 
that some of the Latins, in his time, were beginning to follow the Greek fashion of re- 
jecting this book, but he scouts this new notion, and says he shall stick to the old 
standard canon. 

The internal evidence is also so minutely protracted in its character, that only a 
bare allusion to it can be here permitted, and reference to higher and deeper sources 
of information, on such an exegetical point, may be made for the benefit of the scholar, 
Lampe, Wolf, Michaelis, Mill, Eichhorn and others, quoted by Fabricius, [Biblio- 
theca Graeca, vol. IV. p. 795, note 46.] Hug and his English translator, Dr. Wait, 
are also full on this point. 

This evidence consists for the most part in a comparison of passages in this book 
with similar ones in the other writings of John, more especially his gospel. Wet- 
stein, in particular, has brought together many such parallelisms, some of which are 
so striking in the peculiar expressions of John, and yet so merely accidental in their 
character, as to afford most satisfactory evidence to the nicest critics, of the identity 
of authorship. A table of these coincidences is given from Wetstein, by Wait, 
Hug's translator, (p. 636, note.) Yet on this very point,— the style,— the most seri- 
ous objection to the Apocalypse, as a work of the author of John's gospel, has always 
been founded; — the rude, wild, thundering sublimity of the vision of Patmos, pre- 
senting such a striking contrast with the soft, love-teaching, and beseeching style of 
the gospel and the epistles of John. But such objectors have forgotten or overlooked 
the immense difference between the circumstances under which these works were 
suggested and composed. Their period, their scene, their subject, their object, were 
all widely removed from each other, and a thoughtful examination will show, that 
writings of such widely various scope and tendency could not w T ell have less striking 
differences, than those observable between this and the other writings of John. In such 
a change of circumstances, the structure of sentences, the choice of w^ords, and the 
figures of speech, could hardly be expected to show the slightest similarity between 
works, thus different in design, though by the same author. But in the minuter pe- 
culiarities of language, certain favorite expressions of the author, — particular asso- 



John- 327 

nations of words, such as a forger could never hit upon in that uninventive age,— 
certain personal views and sentiments on trifling points, occasionally modifying the 
verbal forms of ideas— these and a multitude of other characteristics, making up 
that collection of abstractions which is called an author's style,— all quite beyond the 
reach of an imitator, but presenting the most valuable and honest tests to the labo- 
rious critic,— constitute a series of proofs in this case, which none can fully appre- 
ciate but the investigators and students themselves. 

II. With what design was the Apocalypse written ? 
There is no part of the Bible which has been the subject of so 
much perversion, or on which the minds of the great mass of 
Christian readers have been suffered to fall into such gross errors, 
as the Apocalypse. This is the opinion of all the great exegeti- 
cal theologians of this age, who have examined the scope of the 
work most attentively ; and from the time of Martin Luther till 
this moment, the opinions of the learned have for the most part 
been totally different from those which have made up the popular 
sentiment, — none or few, caring to give the world the benefit of 
the simple truth, which might be ill received by those who loved 
darkness rather than light ; and those who knew the truth, have 
generally preferred to keep the quiet enjoyment of it to them- 
selves. This certainly is much to be regretted ; for in conse- 
quence of this culpable negligence of the duty of making reli- 
gious knowledge available for the good of the whole, this partic- 
ular apostolic writing has been the occasion of the most miserable 
and scandalous delusions among the majority even of the more 
intelligent order of Bible readers, — delusions, which, affecting no 
point whatever in creeds and confessions of faith, those bulwarks 
of sects, have been suffered to rage and spread their debasing er- 
ror, without subjecting those who thus indulged their foolish fan- 
cies, to the terrors of ecclesiastical censure. The Revelation of 
John has, accordingly, for the last century or two, been made a 
licensed subject for the indulgence of idle fancies, and used as a 
grand storehouse for every " filthy dreamer" to draw upon, for 
the scriptural prophetical supports of his particular notions of 
" the signs of the times," and for the warrant of his special de- 
nunciations of divine wrath and coming ruin, against any system 
that might happen to be particularly abominable in his religious 
eyes. Thus, a most baseless delusion has been long suffered to 
pervade the minds of common readers, respecting the general 
scope of the Apocalypse, perverting the latter parts of it into a 
prophecy of the rise, triumph and downfall of the Romish papal 
tyranny ; while in respect to the minor details, every schemer 
has been left to satisfy himself, as liis private fancy or sectarian 



328 



JOHN 



zeal might direct him. Now, not only is all this ranting trash 
directly opposed to the clear, natural and simple explanations, 
given by those very persons among the earliest Christian writers, 
who had John's own private personal testimony as to his real 
meaning, in the dark passages which have in modern times been 
made the subject of such idle, fanciful interpretations ; but they 
are so palpably inconsistent both with the general scope and the 
minute details of the writing itself, that even without the sup- 
port of this most incontrovertible evidence of the earliest Chris- 
tian antiquity, the falsehood of the idea of any anti-papal proph- 
ecy can be most triumphantly and unanswerably settled ; and 
this has been repeatedly done, in every variety of manner, by the 
learned labors of all the sagest of the orthodox theologians of 
Germany, Holland, France and England, for the last three hun- 
dred years. A most absurd notion seems to be prevalent, that the 
idea of a rational historical interpretation of the Apocalypse, is 
one of the wicked results of that most horrible of abstract mon- 
sters, u German neology ;" and the dreadful name of Eiehhorn is 
straightway referred to, as the source of this common sense view. 
But Eichhom and all those of the modern German schools of the- 
ology, who have taken up this notion, so far from originating the 
view or aspiring to claim it as their invention, were but quietly 
following the standard authorities which had been steadily accu- 
mulating on this point for sixteen hundred years ; and instead of 
being the result of nealogy or of anything hetp, it was as old as 
the time of Irenaeus. The testimony of all the early writers on 
this point, is uniform and explicit ; and they all, without a solita- 
ry exception, explain the great mass of the bold expressions in it, 
about coming ruin on the enemies of the pure faith of Christ, as a 
distinct, direct prophecy of the downfall of imperial Rome, as the 
great heathen foe of the saints. There was among them no very 
minute account of the manner in which the poetical details of 
the prophecy was to be fulfilled ; but the general meaning of the 
whole was considered to be so marked, dated, and individualized, 
that to have denied this manifest interpretation in their presence, 
must have seemed an absurdity not less than to have denied the 
authentic history of past ages. Not all, nor most of the Christian 
Fathers however, have noticed the design and character of the 
Apocalypse, even among those of the western churches ; while the 
scepticism of the Greek and Syrian Fathers, after the third cen- 
tury, about the authenticity of the work, lias deprived the world 



John. 329 

of the great advantage which their superior acquaintance with the 
original language of the writing, with its peculiarly oriental style, 
allusions and quotations, would have enabled them to afford in 
the faithful interpretation of the predictions. From the very first, 
however, there were difficulties among the different sects, about 
the allegorical and literal interpretations of the expressions which 
referred to the final triumph of the followers of Christ ; some in- 
terpreting those passages as describing an actual personal reign of 
Christ on earth, and a real worldly triumph of his followers, du- 
ring a thousand years, all which was to happen shortly ; — and 
from this notion of a Chiliasm, or a Millennium, arose a peculiar 
sect of heretics, famous in early ecclesiastical history, during the 
two first centuries, under the name of Chiliasts or Millennarians, 
—the Greek or the Latin appellative being used, according as the 
persons thus designated or those designating them, were of eastern 
or western stock. Cerinthus and his followers so far improved 
this worldly view of the subject, as to inculcate the notion that the 
faithful, during that triumph, were to be further rewarded, by the 
full fruition of all bodily and sensual pleasures, and particularly 
that the whole thousand years were to be passed in nuptial en- 
joyments. But these foolish vagaries soon passed away, nor did 
they, even in the times when they prevailed, affect the standard 
interpretation of the general historical relations of the prophecy. 
It was not until a late age of modern times, that any one pre- 
tended to apply the denunciations of ruin, with which the Apoc- 
alypse abounds, to any object but heathen, imperial Rome, or to 
the pagan system generally, as personified or concentrated in the 
existence of that city. During the middle ages, the Franciscans, 
an order of monks, fell under the displeasure of the papal power ; 
and being visited with the censures of the head of the Romish 
church, retorted, by denouncing him as an Anti-Christ, and direct- 
ly set all their wits to work to annoy him in various ways, by 
tongue and pen. In the course of this furious controversy, some 
of them turned their attention to the prophecies respecting Rome, 
which were found in the Apocalypse, then received as an inspired 
book by all the adherents of the church of Rome ; and searching 
into the denunciations of ruin on the Babylon of the seven hills, 
immediately saw by what a slight perversion of expressions, they 
could apply all this dreadful language to their great foe. This 
they did accordingly, with all the spite which had suggested it ; 
and in consequence of this beginning, the Apocalypse thencefor- 



330 



JOHN 



ward became Hie great storehouse of scriptural abuse of the Pope, 
to all who happened to quarrel with him. This continued the 
fashion, down to the time of the Reformation ; but the bold Lu- 
ther and his coadjutors, scorned the thought of a scurrilous aid, 
drawn from such a source, and with a noble honesty not only re- 
fused to adopt this construction, but even did much to throw sus- 
picion on the character of the book itself. Luther however, had 
not the genius suited to minute historical and critical observations ; 
and his condemnation of it therefore, though showing his own 
honest confidence in his mighty cause, to be too high to allow 
him to use a dishonest aid, yet does not affect the results to which 
a more deliberate examination has led those who were as honest 
as he, and much better critics. This however, was the state in 
which the early reformers left the interpretation of the Apocalypse. 
But in later times, a set of spitefully zealous Protestants, headed 
by Napier, Mede, and bishop Newton, took up the Revelation 
of John, as a complete anticipative history of the triumphs, the 
cruelties and the coming ruin of the Papal tyranny, These were 
followed by a servile herd of commentators and sermonizcrs, who 
went on with all the elaborate details of this interpretation, even 
to the precise meaning of the teeth and tails of the prophetical lo- 
custs. These views were occasionally varied by others tracing 
the whole history of the world in these few chapters, and finding 
the conquests of the Hnns, the Saracens, the Turks, &c. all delin- 
eated with most amazing particularity. 

But while these idle fancies were amusing the heads of men, 
who showed more sense in other things, the great current of Bib- 
lical knowledge had been flowing on very uniformly in the old 
course of rational interpretation, and the genius of modern criti- 
cism had already been doing much to perfect the explanation of 
passages on which the wisdom of the Fathers had never pretended 
to throw light. Of all critics who ever took up the Apocalypse 
in a rational way, none ever saw so clearly its real force and ap- 
plication as Hugo Grotius ; and to him belongs the praise of hav- 
ing been the first of the moderns to apprehend and expose the 
truth of this sublimest of apostolic records. This mighty cham- 
pion of Protestant evangelical theology, with that genius which 
was so resplendent in all his illustrations of Divine things as well 
as of human law, distinctly pointed out the three grand divisions 
of the prophetical plan of the work. " The visions as far as to 
the end of the eleventh chapter, describe the affairs of the Jews ; 



joun. 331 

then, as far as to the end of the twentieth chapter, the affairs 
of the Romans ; and thence to the end, the most flourishing 
state of the Christian church." Later theologians, following the 
great plan of explanation thus marked out, have still farther per- 
fected it, and penetrated still deeper into the mysteries of the 
whole. They have shown that the two cities, Rome and Jerusa- 
lem, whose fate constitutes the most considerable portions of the 
Apocalypse, are mentioned only as the seats of two religions 
whose fall is foretold ; and that the third city, the New Jerusa- 
lem, whose triumphant heavenly building is described in the end, 
after the downfall of the former two, is the religion of Christ. Of 
these three cities, the first is called Sodom ; but it is easy to see 
that this name of sin and ruin is only used to designate another 
devoted by the wrath of God to a similar destruction. Indeed, 
the sacred writer himself explains that this is only a metaphorical 
or spiritual use of the term, — " which is spiritually called Sodom 
and Egypt ;" — and to set its locality beyond all possibility of doubt, 
it is furthermore described as the city "where also our Lord was 
crucified." It is also called the " Holy city," and in it was the 
temple. Within, have been slain two faithful witnesses of Jesus 
Christ ; these are the two Jameses, — the great apostolic proto- 
martyrs ; James the son of Zebedee, killed by Herod Agrippa, and 
James the brother of our Lord, the son of Alpheus, killed by order 
of the high priest, in the reign of Nero, as described in the lives of 
those apostles. The ruin of the city is therefore sealed. The second 
described, is called Babylon ; but that Chaldean city had fallen to 
the dust of its plain, centuries before; and this city, on the other 
hand, stood on seven hills, and it was, at the moment when the 
apostle wrote, the seat of " the kingdom of the kingdoms of the 
earth," the capital of the nations of the world, — expressions 
which distinctly mark it to be imperial Rome. The seven an- 
gels pour out the seven vials of wrath on this Babylon, and the 
awful ruin of this mighty city is completed. 

To give repetition and variety to this grand view of the down- 
fall of these two dominant religions, and to present these grand 
objects of the Apocalypse in new relations to futurity, which could 
not be fully expressed under the original figures of the cities which 
were the capital seats of each, they are each again presented un- 
der the poetical image of a female, whose actions and features de- 
scribe the fate of these two systems, and their upholders. First, 
immediately after the account of the city which is called Sodom, 



332 John. 

a female is described as appearing in the heavens, in a most pe- 
culiar array of glory, clothed in the sun's rays, with the moon be- 
neath her feet, and upon her head a crown of twelve stars. This 
woman, thus splendidly arrayed, and exalted to the skies, repre- 
sents the ancient covenant, crowned with all the old and holy 
honors of the twelve tribes of Israel. A huge red dragon (the 
image under which Daniel anciently represented idolatry) rises in 
the heavens, sweeping away the third part of the stars, and char- 
acterized by seven heads and ten horns, (thus identified with a 
subsequent metaphor representing imperial Rome;) — he rages to 
devour the offspring to which the woman is about to give exist- 
ence. The child is born destined to rule all nations with a rod of 
iron, — and is caught up to the throne of God, while the mother 
flees from the rage of the dragon into the wilderness, where she is 
to wander for ages, till the time decreed by God for her return. 
Thus, when from the ancient covenant had sprung forth the new 
revelation of truth in Jesus, it was driven by the rage of heathenism 
from its seat of glory, to Avander in loneliness, unheeded save by 
God, till the far distant day of its blissful re-union with its heav- 
enly offspring, which is, under the favor of God, advancing to a 
firm and lasting dominion over the nations. Even in her retire- 
ment, she is followed by the persecutions of the dragon, now cast 
down from higher glories ; but his fury is lost, — she is protected by 
the earth, (sheltered by the Parthian empire ;) yet the dragon still 
persecutes those of her children who believe in Christ, and are yet 
within his power ; (Jews and Christians persecuted in Rome, by 
Nero and Domitian.) 

Again, after the punishment and destruction of imperial Babylon 
have been described, a second female appears, not in heaven, like the 
first, but in an earthly wilderness, splendidly attired, but not with 
the heavenly glories of the sun, moon and stars. Purple and scar- 
let robes are her covering, marking an imperial honor ; and gold, 
silver, and all earthly gems, adorn her, — showing only worldly 
greatness. In her hand is the golden cup of sins and abomina- 
tions, and she is designated beyond all possibility of mistake, by 
the words, " Mystery, Babylon the Great" This refers to the 
fact, that Rome had another name which was kept a profound se- 
cret, known only to the priests, and on the preservation of which 
religious " mystery," the fortunes of the empire were supposed to 
depend. The second name also identifies her with the city before 
described as " Babylon." She sits on a scarlet beast, with seven 



john. 333 

heads and ten horns. The former are afterwards minutely explain- 
ed, by the apostle himself, in the same chapter, as the seven hills 
on which she sits ; they are also seven kings, that is, it would 
seem, seven periods of empire, of which five are past, one now 
is, and one brief one is yet to come, and the bloody beast itself — 
the relioion of heathenism — is another. The ten horns are the 
ten kings or sovrans who never received any lasting dominion, 
but merely held the sway one after another, a brief hour, with the 
beast, or spirit of heathenism. These, in short, are the ten em- 
perors of Rome before the days of the Apocalypse ; — Augustus, 
Tiberius, Caligula, Claudius, Nero, Galba, Otho, Vitellius, Vespa- 
sian and Titus. These had all reigned, each his hour, giving his 
power to the support of heathenism, and thus warring against the 
faith of the true believers. Still, though reigning over the impe- 
rial city, they shall hate her, and make her desolate ; strip her of 
her costly attire, and burn her with fire. How well expressed 
here the tyranny, of the worst of the Caesars, plundering the state, 
banishing the citizens, and, in the case of Nero, " burning her 
with fire !" 

Who can mistake the gorgeously awful picture ? - It is heathen, 
imperial Rome, desolating and desolated, at that moment suffering 
under the tyrannic sway of him whom the apostle cannot yet 
number with the gloomy ten, that have passed away to the tomb 
of ages gone. It is the mystic Babylon, drunk with the blood of 
the faithful witnesses of Christ, and triumphing in the agonies of 
his saints, " butchered to make a Roman holiday !" No wonder 
that the amazement of the apostolic seer should deepen into hor- 
ror, and high ten to indignation. Through her tyranny his- breth- 
ren had been slaughtered, or driven out from among men, like 
beasts ; and by that same tyranny he himself was now doomed 
to a lonely exile from friends and apostolic duties, on that wild 
heap of barren rocks. Well might he burst out in prophetic de- 
nunciation of her ruin, and rejoice in the awful doom, which the 
angels of God sung over her ; and listen exultingly to the final 
wail over her distant fall, rolling up from futurity, in the coming 
day of the Gothic and Hunnish ravagers, when she should be 
" the desolator desolate, the victor overthrown." 

As there are three mystically named cities — Sodom, Babylon, 
and the New Jerusalem ; so there are three metaphoric females, — 
the star-crowned woman in heaven, the bloody harlot on the beast 
in the wilderness, and the bride, the Lamb's wife. A peculiar 

43 



334 



JOHN, 



fate befalls each of the three pairs. The spiritual Sodom falls 
under a temporary ruin, trodden under foot by the Gentiles, forty- 
two mystic months ; and the star-crowned daughter of Zion wan- 
ders desolate in the wilderness of the world, for twelve hundred 
and sixty days, till the hand of her God shall restore her to grace 
and glory. The great Babylon of the seven hills, falls under a 
doom of far darker, and of irrevocable desolation, — like the dash- 
ing roar of the sinking rock thrown into the sea, she is thrown 
down, and shall be found no more at all. And such too, is the 
doom of the fierce scarlet rider of the beast, — "Rejoice over her, 
O heaven ! and ye holy apostles and prophets ! for God has 
avenged you on her." But beyond all this awful ruin appears a 
vision of contrasting, splendid beauty. 

" The first two acts already past, 

The third shall close the drama with the day ;— 

Time's noblest offspring is the last." 

The shouts of vindictive triumph over the dreadful downfall 
of the bloody city, now soften and sweeten into the songs of joy 
and praise, while the New Jerusalem, the church of God and 
Christ, comes down from the heavens in a solemn, glorious mass 
of living splendor, to bless the earth with its holy presence. In 
this last great scene, also, there is a female, the third of the mys- 
tic series ; not like her of the twelve stars, now wandering like a 
toidoiv disconsolate, in the wilderness ; — not like her of the jewel- 
ed, scarlet and purple robes, cast down from her lofty seat, like 
an abandoned harlot, now desolate in ashes, from which her smoke 
rises up forever and ever ;.• — hut it is one, all holy, happy, pure, 
coming down stainless from the throne of God, — a bride, crowned 
with the glory of God, adorned for her husband, — the One slain 
from the foundation of the world. He through the opening heav- 
ens, too, has come forth before her, the Word of God, the Faith- 
ful and the True r — known by his bloody vesture, stained, not in 
the gore of slaughtered victims, but in the pure blood poured forth 
by himself, for the world, from its foundation. Yet now he rode 
forth on his white horse, as a warrior-king, dealing judgment up- 
on the world with the sword of wrath,— with the sceptre of iron. 
Behind him rode the armies of heaven. — the hallowed hosts of the 
chosen of God, — like their leader, on white horses, but not like 
him, in crimson vesture ; their garments are white and clean ; by 
a miracle of purification, they are washed and made white in 
blood. This mighty leader, with these bright armies, now returns 



john. 335 

irom the conquests to which he rode forth from heaven so glori- 
ously. The kings and the hosts of the earth have arrayed them- 
selves in vain against him ; — the mighty imperial monster, in all 
the vastness of his wide dominion, — the false prophets of heathen- 
ism, combining their vile deceptions with his power, are van- 
quished, crushed with all their miserable slaves, whose flesh now 
fills and fattens the eagles, the vultures, and the ravens. The 
spirit of heathenism is crushed; the dragon, the monster of idol- 
atry, is chained, and sunk into the bottomless pit, — yet not for 
ever. After a course of ages, — a mystic thousand years, — he 
slowly rises, and winding with serpent cunning among the na- 
tions, he deceives them again ; till at last, lifting his head over 
the world, he gathers each idolatrous and barbarous host together, 
from the whole breadth of the earth, encompassing and assaulting 
the camp of the saints ; but while they hope for the ruin of the 
faithful, fire comes down from God, and devours them. The ac- 
cusing deceiver, — the genius of idolatry and superstition, — is at 
last seized and bound again ; but not for a mere temporary impris- 
onment. With the spirit of deception and imposture, he is cast 
into a sea of fire, where both are held in unchanging torment, 
day and night, forever. But one last, awful scene remains ; and that 
is one, that in sublimity, and vastness, and overwhelming horror, 
as far outgoes the highest effort of any genius of human poetry, 
as the boundless expanse of the sky excels the mightiest work of 
man. " A great white throne is fixed, and One sits on it, from 
whose face heaven and earth flee away, and no place is found for 
them." " The dead, small and great, stand before God ; they are 
judged and doomed, as they rise from the sea and from the land, 
— from Hades, and from every place of death." Over all, rises the 
new heaven and the new earth, to which now comes down the 
city of God, — the church of Christ, — into which the victorious, 
the redeemed, and the faithful enter. The Conqueror and his ar- 
mies march into the bridal city of the twelve jewelled gates, on 
whose twelve foundation-stones are written the names of the 
mighty founders, the twelve apostles of the slain one. The glo- 
ries of that last, heavenly, and truly eternal city, are told, and the 
mighty course of prophecy ceases. The three great series of 
events are announced ; the endless triumphs of the faithful are 
achieved. 

III. What is the style op the Apocalypse ? 
This inquiry refers to the language, spirit and rhetorical struc- 



336 john. 

ture of the writing, to its rank as an effort of composition, and to 
its peculiarities as expressive of the personal character and feel- 
ings of its inspired writer. The previous inquiry has been an- 
swered in such a way as to illustrate the points involved in the 
present one ; and a recapitulation of the simple results of that 
inquiry, will best present the facts necessary for a satisfactory re- 
ply to some points of this. 

First, the Apocalypse is a prophecy, in the common understand- 
ing of the term ; but is not limited, as in the ordinary sense of 
that word, to a mere declaration of futurity ; it embraces in its 
plan the events of the past, and with a glance like that of the 
Eternal, sweeps over that which has been and that which is to be, 
as though both were noto ; and in its solemn course through ages, 
past, present, and future, it bears the record of faithful history, 
as well as of glorious prophecy. 

Second, the Apocalypse is poetry, in the highest and justest 
sense of the word. All prophecy is poetry. The sublimity of 
such thoughts can not be expressed in the plain unbroken detail 
of a prose narrative ; and even when the events of past history 
are combined in one harmonious series with wide views of the fu- 
ture, they too rise from the dull unpictured record of a mere nar- 
rator, and share in the elevation of the mighty whole. The spirit 
of the writer, replete, not with mere particulars, but with vivid 
images, seeks language that paints, " thoughts that breathe, and 
words that burn ;" and thus the writing that flows forth is poetry, — 
the imaginative expression of deep, high feeling — swelling where 
the occasion moves the writer, into the energy of passion, whether 
dark or holy. 

The character of the Apocalypse, as affected by the passionate 
feelings of the writer, is also a point which has been illustrated 
by foregoing historical statements of his situation and condition 
at the time of the Revelation. He was the victim of an unjust 
and cruel sentence, deprived of all the sweet earthly solaces of 
his advanced age, and left on a desert rock,-e-useless to the cause 
of Christ and beyond even the knowledge of its progress. The 
mournful sound of sweeping winds and dashing waves, alone 
broke the dreary silence of his loneliness, and awaking sensa- 
tions only of a melancholy order, sent back his thoughts into the 
sadder remembrances of the past, and called up also many of the 
sterner emotions against those who had been the occasions of the 
past and present calamities which grieved him. The very outset 



john. 337 

is in such a tone as these circumstances would naturally inspire. 
A deep, holy indignation breaks forth in the solemn annunciation 
of himself, as their "brother and companion in tribulation." Sad- 
ness is the prominent sentiment expressed in all the addresses to 
the churches; and in the prelude to the great Apocalypse, while 
the ceremonies of opening the book which contains it are going 
on, the strong predominant emotion of the writer is again betray- 
ed in the vision of " the souls of them that were slain for the word 
of God, and for the testimony which they bore ;" and the solemn- 
ly mournful cry which they send up to him for whom they died, 
expresses the deep and bitter feeling of the writer towards the 
murderers,—" How long, O Lord ! holy and true ! dost thou not 
judge and avenge our blood on them that dwell on the earth ?" 
The apostle was thinking of the martyrs of Jerusalem and Rome, 
— of those who fell under the persecutions of the high priests, of 
Agrippa, and of Nero. And when the seven seals are broken, 
and the true revelation, of which this ceremony was only a poet- 
ical prelude, actually begins, the first great view presents the 
bloody scenes of that once Holy city, which now, by its cruelties 
against the cause which is to him as his life, — by the remorseless 
murder of those who are near and dear to him, — has lost all its 
ancient dominion over the affections and the hopes of the last 
apostle and all the followers of Christ. 

Again the mournful tragedies of earlier apostolic days pass be- 
fore him. Again he sees his noble brother bearing his bold wit- 
ness of Jesus ; and with him that other apostle, who in works and 
fate as much resembled the first, as in name. Their blood pour- 
ing out on the earth, rises to heaven, but not sooner than their 
spirits,— whence their loud witness calls down woful ruin on 
the blood-defiled city of the temple. And when that ruin falls, no 
regret checks the exulting tone of the thanksgiving. All that 
made those places holy and dear, is gone ; — God dwells there no 
more ; " the temple of God is opened in heaven, and there is seen 
in his temple the ark of his covenant," and all heaven swells the 
jubilee over the destruction of Jerusalem. And after this, when 
the apostle's view moved forward from the past to the future, and 
his eye rested on the crimes and the destiny of heathen Rome, 
the bitter remembrance of her cruelties towards his brethren, lifted 
his soul to high indignation, and he burst forth on her in the in- 
spired wrath of a Son of Thunder :— 



338 john. 

" Evefry burning word he spoke, 
Full of rage, and full of grief. 

" Rome shall perish ; write that word 
In the blood that she has spilt. 
Rome shall perish, — fall abhorred, — 
Deep in ruin as in guilt." 

In respect to the learning displayed in the Apocalypse, some 
most remarkable facts are observable. Apart from the very copi- 
ous matters borrowed from the canonical writings of the Old Tes- 
tament, from Isaiah, Ezekiel, Daniel, and other prophets, from 
which, as any reader can see, some of the most splendid imagery 
has been taken almost verbatim, — it is undeniable, that John has 
drawn very largely from a famous apocryphal Hebrew writing, 
called the Book of Enoch, which Jude has also quoted in his 
epistle ; and in his life it will be more fully described. The vis- 
ion of seven stars, explained to be angels, — of the pair of balances 
in the hand of the horseman, after the opening of the third seal. — 
the river and tree of life, — the souls under the altar, crying for 
vengeance, — the angel measuring the city, — the thousand years 
of peace and holiness,— are all found vividly expressed in that an- 
cient book, and had manifestly been made familiar to John by 
reading. In other ancient apocryphal books, are noticed some 
other striking and literal coincidences with the Apocalypse. The 
early Rabbinical writings are also rich in such parallel passages. 
The name of the Conqueror, " which no one knows but himself,"— 
the rainbow stretched around the throne of God,— the fiery scep- 
ter, — the seven angels, — the sapphire throne, — the cherubic four 
beasts, six-winged, and crying Holy, Holy,- Lord God of hosts, — 
the crowns of gold on the heads of the saints, which they cast be- 
fore the throne, — the book with seven seals,— the souls under the 
altar,— the silence in heaven, — the Abaddon, — the child caught up 
to God, — Satan, as the accuser of the saints, day and night before 
God,— the angel of the waters,— the hail of great weight,— the 
second death, — the new heaven and earth, — the twelve-gated city 
of precious stones, — and Rome, under the name of " Great Baby- 
lon,"— are all found in the old Jewish writings, in such distinctness 
as to make it palpable that John was deeply learned in Hebrew 
literature, both sacred and traditional. 

Yet all these are but the forms of expression, not of thought. 
The apostle used them, because long, constant familiarity with the 
writings in which such imagery abounded, made these sentences 
the most natural and ready vehicles of inspired emotions. The 
tame and often tedious details of those old human inventions, had 



John. 339 

no influence in moulding the grand conceptions of the glorious 
revelation. This had a deeper, a higher, a holier source, in the 
spirit of eternal truth,— the mighty suggestions of the time-over- 
sweeping spirit of prophecy,— the same that moved the fiery lips 
of those denouncers of the ancient Babylon, whose writings also 
had been deeply known to him by years of study, and had furnish- 
ed also a share of consecrated expressions. That spirit he had 
caught during his long eastern residence in the very scene of their 
prophecy and its awful fulfilment. If this notion of his dwell- 
ing for a time with Peter in Babylon is well founded, as it has 
been above narrated, it is at once suggested also, that in that 
Chaldean city,— then the capital seat of all Hebrew learning, and 
for ages the fount of light to the votaries of Judaism, — he had, du- 
ring the years of his stay, been led to the deep study and the vast 
knowledge of that amazing range of Talmudical and Cabbalistical 
learning, which is displayed in every part of the Apocalypse. But 
how different all these resources in knowledge, from the mighty 
production that seemed to flow from them ! How far are even the 
sublimest conceptions of the ancient prophets, in their unconnect- 
ed bursts and fragments of inspiration, from the harmonious plan> 
the comprehensive range, and the faultless dramatic unity, or 
rather tri-unity, of this most perfect of historical views, and of po- 
etical conceptions ! 

All these coincidences, with a vast number of other learned references, highly illus- 
trative of the character of the Apocalypse, as enriched with Oriental imagery, may 
be found in Wait's very copious notes on Hug's Introduction. 

There are many things in this view of the Apocalypse which will occasion surprise 
to many readers, but to none who are familiar with the views of the standard ortho- 
dox writers on this department of Biblical literature. The view taken in the text of 
this work, corresponds in its grand outlines, to the high authorities there named ; 
though in the minute details, it follows none exactly. Some interpretations of partic- 
ular passages are found no where else ; but these occasional peculiarities cannot af- 
fect the general character of the view ; and it will certainly be found accordant with 
that universally received among the Biblical scholars of Germany and England, be- 
longing to the Romish, the Lutheran, the Anglican, and Wesleyan ehurches. The 
authority most closely followed, is Dr. Hug, Roman Catholic professor of theology 
in an Austrian university, further explained by his translator, Dr. D. G. Wait, of 
the church of England, more distinguished in Biblical and oriental literature, proba- 
bly, than any other of the numerous learned living divines of that church. These 
views are also found in the commentary of that splendid orientalist, Dr. Adam 
Clarke, a work which, fortunately for the world, is last taking the place of the nu- 
merous lumbering, prosing quartos that have too long met the mind of the com- 
mon Bible reader with mere masses of dogmatic theology, where he needs the help 
of simple, clear interpretation and illustration, which has been drawn by the truly 
learned, from a minute knowledge of the language and critical history of the sacred 
writings. This noble work, as far as I know, is the first which took the'honest ground 
of the ancient interpretation of the Apocalypse, with common readers, and consti- 
tutes a noble monument to the praise of the good and learned man, who first threw 
light for such readers on the most sublime book in the sacred canon, and among 
all 1 he writings ever penned by man, — a book which ignorant visionaries had too 



340 



JOHN. 



long been suffered to overcloud and perplex for those who need the guidance of the 
learned in the interpretation of the " many things hard to be understood" in the vol- 
ume of truth. The first book of a popular character, ever issued from the American 
press, explaining the Apocalypse according to the standard mode, is a treatise on the 
Millennium, by the learned Professor Bush, of the New York University, in which 
he adopts the grand outlines of the plan above detailed, though I have not had the 
opportunity of ascertaining how it is, in the minor details. 

In reference to the tone assumed in some passages of the statement in the text, per- 
haps it may be thought that more freedom has been used in characterizing opposite 
views, than is accordant with the principles of " moderation and hesitation," propo- 
sed in comment upon Luther and Michaelis. But where, in the denunciation of po- 
pular error, a reference to the motive of the inculcators of it would serve to expose 
most readily its nature, such a freedom of pen has been fearlessly adopted ; and se- 
verity of language on these occasions is justified by the consideration of the charac- 
ter of the delusion which is to be overthrown. The statements too, which are the oc- 
casion and the support of these condemnations of vulgar notions, are drawn not from 
the mere conceptions of the writer of this book, but from the unanswerable authori- 
ties of the great standards of Biblical interpretation. The opportunity of research 
on this point has been too limited to allow anything like an enumeration of all the 
great names who support this view ; but references enough have already been made, 
to show that an irresistible weight of orthodox sentiment has decided in favor of 
these views as above given. 

Some of the minute details, particularly those not authorized by learned men,, who 
have already so nearly perfected the standard view, may fall under the censure of 
the critical, as fanciful, like those so freely condemned before ; but they were written 
down because it seemed that there was, in those cases, a wonderfulty minute corres- 
pondence between these passages and events in the life of John, not commonly noti- 
ced. The greater part of this view, however, may be found almost verbatim in 
Wait's translation of Hug's Introduction. 

The most satisfactory evidence of the meaning of the great mystery of the Apoc- 
alypse, is in the true interpretation of " the number of the beast," the mystic 666. In 
the Greek and oriental languages, the letters are used to represent numbers, and 
thence arose in mystic writings a mode of representing a name by any number, 
which would be made up by adding together the numbers for which its letters stood ; 
and so any number thus mystically given may be resolved into a name, by taking 
any word whose letters when added together will make up that sum. Now the word 
Latinus, (Aaretj/os,) meaning the Latin or Roman empire, (for the names are synon- 
ymous,) is made up of Greek letters representing the numbers whose sum is 666. 
Thus A-30, a-1, t-300, £-5, t-10, v-50, o-70, s -200— all which, added up, make just 
666. What confirms this view is, that Irenaeus says, "John himself told those who 
saw him face to face, that this was what he meant by the number;" and Irenaeus as- 
sures us that he himself heard this from the personal acquaintances of John. 
(See Wait's note. Trans, of Hug's Introd. II. 626—629, note.) 

BIS LAST RESIDENCE IN EPHESUS. 

The date of John's return from Patmos is capable of more 
exact proof than any other point in the chronology of his later 
years. The death of Domitian, who fell at last under the dag- 
gers of his own previous friends, now driven to this measure by 
their danger from his murderous tyranny, happened in the six- 
teenth of his own reign, (A. D. 96.) On the happy consumma- 
mation of this desirable revolution, Cocceius Nerva, who had 
himself suffered banishment under the suspicious tyranny of Do- 
mitian, was now recalled from his exile, to the throne of the Cae- 
sars ; and mindful of his own late calamity, he commenced his 
just and blameless reign by an auspicious act of clemency, resto- 
ring to their country and home all who had been banished by the 



JOHN. 341 

late em}3eror. Among these, John was doubtless included ; for 
the decree was so comprehensive that he could hardly have been 
excluded from the benefit of its provisions ; and to give this view 
the strongest confirmation, it is specified by the heathen historians 
of Rome, that this senatorial decree of general recall did not ex- 
cept even those who had been found guilty of religious offenses. 
Christian writers also, of a respectable antiquity, state distinctly 
that the apostle John was recalled from Patmos by this decree 
of Nerva. Some of the early ecclesiastical historians, indeed, 
have pretended that this persecution against the Christians was 
suspended by Domitian himself, on some occasion of repentance ; 
but critical examination and a comparison of higher authorities, 
both sacred and profane, have disproved the notion. The data 
above-mentioned, therefore, fix the return of John from banish- 
ment, in the first year of Nerva,, which, according to the most ap- 
proved chronology, corresponds with A. I). 96. This date is 
useful also, in affording ground for a reasonable conjecture re- 
specting the comparative age of John. He could not have been 
near as old as Jesus Christ, since the attainment of the age of 
ninety-six must imply an extreme of infirmity necessarily accom- 
panying it, unless a miracle of most unparalleled character is sup- 
posed ; and no one can venture to require belief in a pretended 
miracle, of which no sacred record bears testimony. If he was, 
on his return from Patmos, as well as during his residence there, 
able to produce writings of such power and such clear expression, 
as those which are generally attributed to these periods, it seems 
reasonable to suppose that he was many years younger than Jesus 
Christ. The common Christian era, also, fixing the birth of^ 
Christ some years too late, this circumstance will require a still 
larger subtraction from this number, for the age of John. 

HIS GOSPEL. 

The united testimony of early writers who allude to this mat- 
ter, is that John wrote his gospel, long after the completion and 
circulation of the writings of the three first evangelists. (Some 
early testimony on the subject dates from the end of the second 
century, and specifies that John, observing that in the other gos- 
pels, those things were copiously related which concern the hu- 
manity of Christ, wrote a spiritual gospel, at the earnest s^icita- 
tions of his friends and disciples, to explain in more full detail, 
the divinity of Christ. This account is certainly accordant with 
what is observable of the structure and tendency of this gospel ; 

44 



342 john. 

but much earlier testimony than this, distinctly declares that John's 
design in writing, was to attack certain heresies on the same point 
specified in the former statement. The Nicolaitans and the 
followers of Cerinthus, in particular, who were both Gnostical 
sects, are mentioned as having become obnoxious to the purity of 
the truth, by inculcating notions which directly attacked the true 
divinity and real Messiahship of Jesus. The earliest heresy that 
is known to have arisen in the Christian churches, is that of the 
Gnostics, who, though divided among themselves by some minor 
distinctions, yet all agreed in certain grand errors, against which 
this gospel appears to have been particularly directed. The great 
system of mystical philosophy from which all these errors sprung, 
did not derive its origin from Christianity, but existed in the east 
long before the time of Christ ; yet after the wide diffusion of his 
doctrines, many who had been previously imbued with this ori- 
ental mysticism, became converts to the new faith. But not right- 
ly apprehending the simplicity of the faith which they had par- 
tially adopted, they soon began to contaminate its purity by the 
addition of strange doctrines, drawn from their philosophy, which 
were totally inconsistent with the great revelations made by Christ 
to his apostles. The prime suggestion of the mischief, and one*, 
alas ! which has not at this moment ceased to distract the churches 
of Christy was a set of speculations, introduced " to account for 
the origin and existence of evil in the world" — which seemed to 
them inconsistent with the perfect work of an all-wise and be- 
nevolent being. Overleaping all those minor grounds of dispute 
which are now occupying the attention of modern controversial- 
ists, they attacked the very basis of religious truth, and adopted 
the notion that the world was not created by the supreme God 
himself, but by a being of inferior rank, called by them the De- 
miurgus, whom they considered deficient in benevolence and in 
wisdom, and as thus being the occasion of the evil so manifest in 
the works of his hands. This Demiurgus they considered iden- 
tical with the God of the Jews, as revealed in the Old Testament. 
Between him and the Supreme Deity, they placed an order of be- 
ings, to which they assigned the names of the " Only-begotten," 
"the Word," " the Light," "the Life," &c. ; and among these su- 
perior beings, was Christ, — a distinct existence from Jesus, whom 
they declared a mere man, the son of Mary : but acquiring a di- 
vine character by being united at his baptism to the Divinity,, 
Christ, who departed from him at his death. Most of the Gnos- 



john. 343 

tics utterly rejected the law of Moses ; but Cerinthus is said to 

have respected some parts of it. 

A full account of the prominent characteristics of the Gnostical system may be 
found in Mosheim's Ecclesiastical History, illustrated by valuable annotations in Dr. 
Murdock's translation of that work. The scholar will also find an elaborate account 
of this, with other Oriental mysticisms, in Beausobre's Histoire de Maniehee et du 
Manicheisme. J. D. Michaelis, in his introduction to the N. T., (vol. III. c. ii. § 5,) 
is also copious on these tenets, in his account of John's gospel. He refers also to 
Walch's History of Heretics. Hug's Introduction also gives a very full account of 
the peculiarities of Cerinthus, as connected with the scope of this gospel. Introd. vol. 
II. §§ 49—53, [of the original,] §§ 48—52, [Wait's translation.] 

In connection with John's living at Ephesus, a story became afterwards current about 
his meeting him on one occasion and openly expressing a personal abhorrence of him. 
"Irenaeus [adv. Haer. III. c. 4. p. 140,] states from Polycarp, that John once going 
into a bath at Ephesus, discovered Cerinthus, the heretic, there ; and leaping out of 
the bath he hastened away, saying he was afraid lest the building should fall on him, 
and crush him along with the heretic." Conyers Middleton, in his Miscellaneous 
works, has attacked this story, in a treatise upon this express point. (This is in the 
edition of his works in four or five volumes, quarto; but I cannot quote the volume, 
because it is not now at hand.) Lardner also discusses it. (Vol. I. p. 325, vol. II. p. 
555, 4to. ed.) 

There can be no better human authority on any subject connected with the life of 
John, than that of Irenaeus of Lyons, [A. D. 1G0,] who had in his youth lived in 
Asia, where he was personally acquainted with Polycarp, the disciple and intimate 
friend of John, the apostle. His words are, "John, the disciple of the Lord, wishing 
by the publication of his gospel to remove that error which had been sown among 
men, by Cerinthus, and much earlier, by those called Nicolaitans, who are a fragment 
of science,, (or the Gnosis,) falsely so called ; — and that he might both confound them, 
and convince them that there is but one God, who made all things by his word, and 
not, as they say, one who was the Creator, and another who was the Father of our 
Lord." (Heres. lib. III. c. xi.) In another passage he says, — " As John the disciple 
of the Lord confirms, saying, ' But these are written that you may believe that Jesus 
is the Son of God, and that believing, you may have eternal life in his name,' — 
guarding against these blasphemous notions, which divide the Lord, as far as they 
can, by saying that he was made of two different substances." (Heres. lib. III. e. xvi.) 
Michaelis, in his Introduction on John, discusses this passage, and illustrates its true 
application. 

It appears well established by respectable historical testimony, 
that Cerinthus was contemporary with John at Ephesus, and that 
he had already made alarming progress in the diffusion of these 
and other peculiar errors, during the life of the apostle. John 
therefore, now in the decline of life, on the verge of the grave, 
would wish to bear his inspired testimony against the advancing 
heresy ; and the occasion, scope, and object of his gospel are very 
clearly illustrated by a reference to these circumstances. The pe- 
culiar use of terms, more particularly in the first part, — terms 
which have caused so much perplexity and controversy among 
those who knew nothing about the peculiar technical significa- 
tions of these mystical phrases, as they were limited by the philo- 
sophical application of them in the system of the Gnostics, — is 
thus shown in a historical light, highly valuable in preventing a 
mis-interpretation among common readers. This view of the 
great design of John's gospel, will be found to coincide exactly 



344 John* 

with tlie results of a minute examination of almost all parts of it, 
and gives new force to -many passages, by revealing the particu- 
lar error at which they were aimed. The details of these coinci- 
dences cannot be given here, but have been most satisfactorily 
traced out, at great length, by the labors of the great modern ex- 
egetical theologians, who have occupied volumes with the elucida- 
tion of these points. The whole gospel indeed, is not so absorb- 
ed in the unity of this plan, as to neglect occasions for supplying 
general historical deficiences in the narratives of the preceding 
evangelists. An account is thus given of two journeys to Jeru- 
salem, of which no mention had ever been made in former re- 
cords, while hardly any notice whatever is taken of the incidents 
of the wanderings in Galilee, which occupy so large a portion of 
former narratives,— except so far as they are connected with those 
instructions of Christ which accord with the great object of this 
gospel. The scene of the great part of John's narrative is laid in 
Judea, more particularly in and about Jerusalem ; and on the part- 
ing instructions given by Christ to his disciples, just before his 
crucifixion, he is very full ; yet, even in those, he seizes hold mainly 
of those things which fall most directly within the scope of his 
work. But throughout the whole, the grand object is seen to be r 
the presentation of Jesus as the Messiah, the son of the living, 
eternal God, containing within himself the Life, the Light, the 
Only-begotten, the Word, and all the personified excellences, to 
which the Gnostics had, in their mystic idealism, given a sepa ra te 
existence. It thus differs from all the former gospels, in the cir- 
cumstance, that its great object and its general character is not 
historical, but dogmatical, — not universal in its direction and ten- 
dency, but aimed at the establishment of particular doctrines, and 
the subversion of particular errors. 

Another class of sectaries, against whose errors John wrote in 
this gospel, were the Sabians, or disciples of John the Baptist ; — 
for some of those who had followed him during his preaching, did 
not afterwards turn to the greater Teacher and Prophet, whom he 
pointed out as the one of whom he was the forerunner ; and these 
disciples of the great Baptizer, after his death, taking the pure 
doctrines which he taught, as a basis, made up a peculiar religious 
system, by large additions from the same Oriental mysteries from 
which the Gnostics had drawn their remarkable principles. They 
acknowledged Jesus Christ as a being of high order, and designate 
him in their religious books as the " Disciple of Life ;" while 



jotijs'. 345 

John the Baptist, himself somewhat inferior, is called the " Apos- 
tle of Light,"— and is said to have received his peculiar glorified 
transfiguration, from a body of flesh to a body of light, from Jesus 
at the time of his baptism in the Jordan ; and yet is represented 
as distinguished from the " Disciple of Life," by possessing this 
peculiar attribute of Light. 

This mystical error is distinctly characterized in the first chap- 
ter of this gospel, and is there met by the direct assertions, that 
in Jesus Christ, the Word, and the God, was not only Ufa, but 
that the life itself was the light of men ; — and that John the 
Baptist " was not the Light, but was only sent to bear witness of 
the Light ;" and again, with all the tautological earnestness of 
an old man, the aged writer repeats the assertion that " this was 
the true Light, which enlightens every man that comes into the 
world." Against these same sectaries, the greater part of the first 
chapter is directed distinctly, and the whole tendency of the work 
throughout, is in a marked manner opposed to their views. With 
them too, John had had a local connection, by his residence in 
Ephesus, where, as it is distinctly specified in the Acts of the 
Apostles, Paul had found the peculiar disciples of John the Bap- 
tist long before, on his first visit to that city ; and had success- 
fully preached to some of them, J;he religion of Christ, which be- 
fore was a strange and new thing to them. The whole tendency 
and scope of this gospel, indeed, as directed against these two 
prominent classes of heretics, both Gnostics and Sabians, are fully 
and distinctly summed up in the conclusion of the twentieth chap- 
ter ; — " These things are written, that ye might believe that Jesus 
is the Christ, the Son of God, and that in believing on him, ye 
might have life through his name." 

As to the flace where this gospel was written, there is a very 
decided difference of opinion among high authorities, both an- 
cient and modern, — some affirming it to have been composed in 
Patmos, during his exile, and others in Ephesus, before or after 
his banishment. The best authority, however, seems to decide 
in favor of Ephesus, as the place ; and this view seems to be most 
generally adopted in modern times. Even those who suppose it 
to have been written in Patmos, however, grant that it was first 
given to the Christian world in Ephesus, — the weight of early 
authority being very decided on this latter point. This distinc- 
tion between the place of composition and the place of publica- 
tion, is certainly very reasonable on some accounts, and is sup- 



346 



JOHN. 



ported by ancient authorities of dubious date ; but there are im- 
portant objections to the idea of the composition of both this and 
the Apocalypse, in the same place, during about one year, which 
was the. period of his exile. There seem to be many things in 
the style of the gospel which would show it to be a work written 
at a different period, and under different circumstances from the 
Apocalypse ; and some Biblical critics, of high standing, have 
thought that the gospel bore marks in its style, which character- 
ized it as a production of a much older man than the author of 
the energetic, and almost furious denunciations of the Apocalypse, 
must have been. In this case, where ancient authority is so little 
decisive, it is but fair to leave the point to be determined by evi- 
dence thus connected with the date, and drawn from the internal 
character of the composition itself, — a sort of evidence, on which 
the latest moderns are far more capable of deciding than the most 
ancient, and the sagest of the Fathers. The date itself is of 
course inseparably connected with the determination of the place, 
and like that, must be pronounced very uncertain. The greatest 
probability about both these points is, that it was written at Eph- 
esus, after his return from Patmos ; for the idea of its being pro- 
duced before his banishment, during his first residence in Asia, 
has long ago been exploded ; nor is there any late writer of au- 
thority on these points, who pretends to support this unfounded 
notion. 

HIS FIRST EPISTLE. 

All that has been said on the character and the objects of the 
gospel, may be exactly applied to this very similar production. 
So completely does it resemble John's gospel, in style, language, 
doctrines and tendencies, that even a superficial reader might be 
ready to pronounce, on a common examination, that they were 
written in the same circumstances and with the same object. 
This has been the conclusion at which the most learned critics have 
arrived, after a full investigation of the peculiarities of both, 
throughout ; and the standard opinion now is, that they were 
both written at the same time and for the same persons. Some 
reasons have been given by high critical authority, for supposing 
that they were both written at Patmos, and sent together to Eph- 
esus,— the epistle serving as a preface, dedication, and accompani- 
ment of the gospel, to those for whom it was intended, and com- 
mending the prominent points in it to their particular attention. 
This beautiful and satisfactory view of the object and occasion of 



JOHN. 



347 



the epistle, may certainly be adopted with great propriety and jus- 
tice ; but in regard to the places of its composition and direction, 
a different view is much more probable, as well as more consist- 
ent with the notion, already presented above, of the date and 
place of the gospel. It is very reasonable to suppose that the 
epistle was written some years after John's return to Ephesus,— 
that it was intended, (along with the gospel, for the churches of Asia 
generally, to whom John hoped to make an apostolic pastoral vis- 
it, shortly,) to confirm them in the faith, as he announces in the 
conclusion. There is not a single circumstance in gospel or epis- 
tle, which should lead any one to believe that they were directed 
to Ephesus in particular. On the contrary, the total absence of 
anything like a personal or local direction to the epistle, shows 
the justice of its common title, that it is a " general epistle," a cir- 
cular, in short, to all the churches under his special apostolic su- 
pervision, — for whose particular dangers, errors and necessities, he 
had written the gospel just sent forth, and to whom he now mi- 
nutely commended that work, in the very opening words of his 
letter, referring as palpably and undeniably to his gospel, as any 
words can express. " Of that which ' was from the beginning, 
of the Word,' which I have heard, which I have seen with my 
eyes, which I have looked upon, which my hands have handled, 
— of the Word of Life" &c.; particularizing with all the minute 
verbosity of old age, his exact knowledge of the facts which 
he gives in his gospel, assuring them thus of the accuracy of his 
descriptions. The question concerns his reputation for fidelity 
as a historian ; and it is easy to see therefore, why he should la- 
bor thus to impress on his readers his important personal advan- 
tages for knowing exactly all the facts he treats of, and all the 
doctrines which he gives at such length in the discourses of 
Christ. Again and again he says, "I write," and "I have writ- 
ten," recapitulating the sum of the doctrines which he has de- 
signed to inculcate ; and he particularizes still farther that he has 
written to all classes and ages, from the oldest to the youngest, in- 
tending his gospel for the benefit of all. " I have written to you, 
fathers,'" — "unto you, young men" — "unto you, little children? 
&c. What else can this imply, than a dedication of the work con- 
cerning " the WORD," to all stations and ages, — to the whole 
of the Christian communities, to whom he commits and recom- 
mends his writings ; — as he writes " to the fathers,— because 
they know him who was from the beginning," — in the same way 



34S 



JOHN. 



"to the young men, because they are constant, and the Word of 
God dwells in them," and " that the doctrine they have received 
may remain unchangeable in them," and " on account of those 
who would seduce them." He recapitulates all the leading 
doctrines of his gospel, — the Messiahship, and the Divinity of Je- 
sus, — his Unity, and identity with the divine abstractions of the 
Gnostic theology. Here too, he inculcates and renewedly urges 
the great feeling of Christian brotherly love, which so decidedly 
characterizes the discourses of Jesus, as reported in his gospel. 
So perfect was the connection of origin and design, between the 
gospel and this accompanying letter, that they were anciently 
placed together, the epistle immediately following the gospel ; as 
is indubitably proved by certain marks in ancient manuscripts. 

It was mentioned, in connection with a former part of John's life, that this epistle 
is quoted by Augustin and others, under the title of the epistle to the Parthians. It 
seems very probable that this may have been also addressed to those churches in the 
east, about Babylon, which had certainly suffered much under the attacks of these 
same mystical heretics. It is explained, however, by some, that this was an acciden- 
tal, corruption in the copying of the Greek. — The second epistle was quoted by 
Clemens Alex., under the title of "the epistle to the virgins," Trpcs irap&cvovs, which, 
as some of the modern critics say, must have been accidentally changed to napSovs, 
by dropping some of the syllables, and afterwards transferred to the first ( .' ) as more 
appropriate ; — a perfectly unauthorized conjecture, and directly in the face of all 
rules of criticism. 

THE SECOND AND THIRD EPISTLES. 

These are both evidently private letters from John to two of 
his intimate personal friends, of whose circumstances nothing 
whatever being known, except what is therein contained, the no- 
tice of these brief writings must necessarily be brief also. They 
are both honorably referred to, as entertainers of the' servants of 
Jesus Christ as they travel from place to place, and seem to have 
been residents in some of the Asian cities within John's apostolic 
circuit, and probably received him kindly and reverently into their 
houses on his tours of duty ; and them he was about to visit 
again shortly. The second epistle is directed to a Christian fe- 
male, who, being designated by the very honorable title of " lady" 
was evidently a person of rank ; and from the remark towards 
the conclusion, about the proper objects of her hospitality, it is 
plain that she must have been also a person of some property. 
Mention is made of her children as also objects of warm affec- 
tion to the aged apostle ; and as no other member of her family 
is noticed, it is reasonable to conclude that she was a widow. 
The contents of this short letter are a mere transcript, almost 
verbatim, of some important points in the first, inculcating Chris- 



john. 349 

tian love, and watchfulness against deceivers ; — (no doubt the 
Gnostical heretics, — the Cerinthians and Nicolaitans.) He apolo- 
gizes for the shortness of the letter, by saying that he hopes 
shortly to visit her ; and ends by communicating the affectionate 
greetings of her sister's children, then residents in Ephesus, or 
whatever city was then the home of John* The third epistle is 
directed to Gaius. (that is, Caius, a Roman name,) whose hospi- 
tality is commemorated with great particularity and gratitude in 
behalf of Christian strangers, probably preachers, traveling in his 
region. Another person, named Diotrephes, (a Greek by name, 
and probably one of the partizans of Cerinthus,) is mentioned as 
maintaining a very different character, who, so far from receiving 
the ministers of the gospel sent by the apostle, had even excluded 
from Christian fellowship those who did exercise this hospitality 
to the messengers of the apostle. John speaks threateningly of 
him, and closes with the same apology for the shortness of the 
letter, as in the former. There are several persons, named Gaius, 
or Caius, mentioned in apostolic history ; but there is no reason 
to suppose that any of them was identified with this man. 

For these lucid views of the objects of all these epistles, I am mainly indebted to 
Hug's Introduction, to whom belongs the merit of expressing them in this distinct- 
ness, though others before him have not been far from apprehending their simple 
force. Miehaelis, for instance, is very satisfactory, and much more full on some 
points. In respect to the place whence they were written, Hug appears to be wholly 
in the wrong, in referring them to Patmos, just before John's return. Not the least 
glimmer of a reason appears, why all the writings of John should be huddled togeth- 
er in his exile. I can make nothing whatever of the learned commentator's reason 
about the deficiency of " pen, ink and paper," (mentioned in Epist. ii. 12, and iii. 13.) 
as showing that John must still have been in " that miserable place," Patmos. The 
idea seems to require a great perversion of simple words, which do not seem to be 
capable of any other sense than that adopted in the above account. 

THE TRADITIONS OF HIS LIFE IN EPHESUS. 

To this period of his life, are referred those stories of his mira- 
cles and actions, with which the ancient fictitious apostolic narra- 
tives are so crowded, — John being the subject of more ancient 
traditions than any other apostle. Some of those are so respecta- 
ble and reasonable in their character, as to deserve a place here, 
although none of them are of such antiquity as to deserve any 
confidence, on points where fiction has often been so busy. The 
first which follows, is altogether the most ancient of all apostolic 
stories, which are not in the New Testament ; and even if it is a 
work of fiction, it has such merits as a mere tale, that it would be 
injustice to the readers of this book, not to give them the whole 
story, from the most ancieut and best authorized record. 

45 



350 



JOHN. 



It is related that John, after returning from banishment, wa& 
often called to the neighboring churches to organize them, or to 
heal divisions, and to ordain elders. On one occasion, after or- 
daining a bishop, he committed to his particular care and instruc 
tion a fine young mam whom he saw in the congregation, charg- 
ing the bishop, before the whole church, to be faithful to him. 
The bishop accordingly took the young man into his house, 
watched over him, and instructed him, and at length baptized 
him. After this, viewing the 3^011 ng man as a confirmed Chris- 
tian, the bishop relaxed his watchfulness, and allowed the youth 
greater liberties. He soon got into bad company, in which his 
talents made him conspicuous, and proceeding from one step to 
another, he finally became the leader of a baud of robbers. In 
this state of things. John came to visit the church, and presently 
called upon the bishop to bring forward his charge. The bishop 
replied that he was dead, — dead to God; — and was now in the 
mountains, a captain of banditti. John ordered a horse to be 
brought immediately to the church door, and a guide to attend 
him ; and mounting, he rode full speed in search of the gang. 
He soon fell in with some of them, who seized him, to be carried 
to their head quarters. John told them that this was just what lie 
wanted, for he came on purpose to see their captain. As they 
drew near, the captain stood ready to receive them ; but on see- 
ing John, he drew back, and began to make off. John pursued 
with all the speed his aged limbs would permit, crying out, "My 
son, why do you run from your own father, who is unarmed and 
aged ? Pity me, my son, and do not fear. There is yet hope of 
your life. I will intercede for you ; and, if necessary, will cheer- 
fully suffer death for you, as the Lord did for us. Stop, — believe 
what I say ; Christ hath sent me." The young man stopped, 
looked on the ground, and then throwing down his arms, came 
trembling, and with sobs and tears, begged for pardon. The 
apostle assured him of the forgiveness of Christ ; and conduct- 
ing him back to the church, there fasted and prayed with him, and 
at length procured his absolution. 

Another story, far less probable, is related in the ancient mar- 
tyrologies, and by the counterfeit Abdias. Craton, a philoso- 
pher, to make a display of contempt for riches, had persuaded two 
wealthy young men, his followers, to invest all their property in 
two very costly pearls ; and then, in the presence of a multitude, 
to break them, and pound them to dust. John happening to pass 



JOHN, 351 

by, at the close of the transaction, censured this destruction of 
property, which might better have been given in alms to the poor. 
Craton told him, if he thought so, he might miraculously restore 
the dust to solid pearls again, and have them for charitable pur- 
poses. The apostle gathered up the particles, and holding them 
hi his hand, prayed fervently, that they might become solid pearls, 
and when the people said " Amen," it took place. By this mira- 
cle, Craton, and all his followers, were converted to Christianity ; 
and the two young men took back the pearls, sold them, and then 
distributed the avails in charity. Influenced by this example, 
two other young men of distinction^ Atticus and Eugenius, sold 
their estates, and distributed the avails among the poor. For a 
time, they followed the apostle, and possessed the power of work- 
ing miracles. But, one day, being at Pergamus, and seeing some 
well-dressed young men, glittering in their costly array, they be- 
gan to regret that they had sold all their property r and deprived 
themselves of the means of making a figure in the world. John 
read in their countenances and behavior the state of their minds j 
and after drawing from them an avowal of their regret, he bid 
them bring him each a bundle of straight rods, and a parcel of 
smooth stones from the sea shore. They did so, — and the apos- 
tle, after converting the rods into gold, and the stones into pearls, 
bid them take them, and sell them, and redeem their alienated es- 
tates, if they chose. At the same time, he plainly warned them, 
that the consequence would be the eternal loss of their souls. 
While he continued his long and pungent discourse, a funeral 
procession came along. John now prayed, and raised the dead 
man to life. The resuscitated person began to describe the invis- 
ible world, and so graphically painted to Atticus and Eugenius 
the greatness of their loss, that they were melted into contrition. 
The apostle ordered them to do penance thirty days, — till the 
golden rods should become wood, and the pearls become stones; 
They did so, and were afterwards very distinguished saints. 

Another story, of about equal merit, is told by the same au- 
thority. While John continued his successful ministry at Ephe t 
sus, the idolaters there, in a tumult, dragged him to the temple of 
Diana, and insisted on his sacrificing to the idol. He warned all 
to come out of the temple, and then, by prayer, caused it to fall 
to the ground, and become a heap of ruins. Then, addressing 
the pagans on the spot, he converted twelve thousand of them in 
one day. But Aristodemus, the pagan high priest, could not be 



352 john. 

convinced, till John had drunken poison without harm, by which 
two malefactors were killed instantly, and also raised the malefac- 
tors to life. This resuscitation he rendered the more convincing 
to Aristodemus, by making him the instrument of it. The apos- 
tle pulled off his tunic, and gave it to Aristodemus. " And what 
is this for ?" said the high priest. " To cure you of your infi- 
delity," was the reply. " But how is your tunic to cure me of 
infidelity?" " Go," said the apostle, " and spread it upon the dead 
bodies, and say : 'The apostle of our Lord Jesus Christ hath sent 
me to resuscitate you, in his name, that all may know, that life 
and death are the servants of Jesus Christ, my Lord.' " By this 
miracle the high priest was fully convinced ; and afterwards con- 
vinced the proconsul. Both of them were baptized, — and perse- 
cution, from that time, ceased. They also built the church dedi- 
cated to St. John, at Ephesus. 

For this series of fables I am indebted again to the kindness of Dr. Murdoch, in 
whose manuscript lectures they are so well translated from the original romances, as 
to make it unnecessary for me to repeat the labor of making a new version from the 
Latin. The sight of the results of abler efforts directly before me, offers a tempta- 
tion to exonerate myself from a tedious and unsatisfactory effort, which is too great 
to be resisted, while researches into historical truth have a much more urgent claim 
for time and exertion. 

The only one of all these fables that occurs in the writings of the Fathers, is the 
first, which may be pronounced a tolerably respectable and ancient story. It is nar- 
rated by Clemens Alexandrinus, (about A. D. 200.) The story is copied from Cle- 
mens Alexandrinus by Eusebius, from whom we receive it, the original work of Cle- 
mens being now lost. Chrysostom also gives an abridgement of the tale. (I. Parae- 
nes. ad Theod.) Anastasius Sinaita. Simeon Metaphrastes, Nicephorus Callistus, the 
Pseudo-Abdias, and the whole herd of monkish liars, give the story almost verbatim 
from Clemens; for it is so full in his account as to need no embellishment to make it 
a good story. Indeed its completeness in all these interesting details, is one of the 
most suspicious circumstances about it ; in short, it is almost too good a story to be 
true. Those who wish to see all the evidence for and against its authenticity, may find 
it thoroughly examined in Lampe's Prolegomena in Jnannem. (I. v. 4 — 10.) It is, on 
the whole, the best authorized of all the stories about the apostles, which are given by 
the Fathers, and may reasonably be considered to have been true in the essential parts, 
though the minute details of the conversations, &c, are probably embellishments 
worked in by Clemens Alexandrinus, or his informants. 

The rest of these stories are, most unquestionably, all unmitigated falsehoods; nor 
does any body pretend to find the slightest authority for a solitary particular of them. 
They are found no where but in the novels of the Pseudo-Abdias, and the martyrol- 
ogies. (Abd. Babyl., Apost. Hist. lib. V., S. Joan.) 

HIS DEATH. 

Respecting the close of his life, all antiquity is agreed that it 
was not terminated by martyrdom, nor by any violent death what- 
ever, but by a calm and peaceful departure in the course of na- 
ture, at a very great age. The precise number of years to which 
he attained can not be known, because no writer who lived with- 
in five hundred years of his time lias pretended to specify his ex- 
act age. It is merely mentioned on very respectable ancient au- 



JOHN. 



153 



thority, that lie survived to the beginning of the reign of Trajan. 
This noblest of the successors of Julius, began his splendid reign 
in A. D. 98, according to the most approved chronology ; so that 
if John did not outlive even the first year of Trajan, his death 
is brought very near the close of the first century ; and from 
what has been reasonably conjectured about his age, compared 
with that of his Lord, it may be supposed that he attained up- 
wards of eighty years,— a supposition which agrees well enough 
with the statement of some of the Fathers, that he died worn out 
with old age. 

Jerome has a great deal to say also, about the age of John at the lime when he was 
called, arguing that he must have been a mere boy at the time, because tradition as- 
serts that lie lived till the reign of Trajan. Lampe very justly objects, however, that 
this proof amounts to nothing, if we accept another common tradition, that he lived, 
to the age of 100 years ; which, if we count back a century from the reign of Trajan, 
would require him to have attained, mature age at the time of the call. Neither tra- 
dition however, is worth much. Our old friend Baronius, too, comes in to enlighten 
the investigation of John's age, by what he considers indubitable evidence. He says 
that John was in his twenty-second year when he was called, and passing three years 
with Christ, must have been twenty-five years old at the time of the crucifixion ; " be- 
cause" says the sagacious Baronius, " he w r as then initiated into the priesthood." An 
assertion which Lampe with indignant surprise stigmatizes as showing "remarkable 
boldness," (insignis audacia,) because it contains tw r o very gross errors,— first in pre- 
tending that John was ever made a priest, (sacerdos,) and secondly in confounding 
the age required of the Levites with that of the priests when initiated. For Baroni- 
us's argument resting wholly on the very strange and unfounded notion, that John 
was made a priest, is furthermore supported on the idea that the prescribed age for 
entering the priesthood was twenty-five years ; but in reality, the age thus required 
was thirty years, so that if the other part of this idle story was true, this would be 
enough to overthrow the conclusion. Lampe also alludes to the absurd idea of the 
painters, in representing John as a young man, even while writing his gospel ; while 
in reality all writers agree that that work was written by him in his old age. This 
idea of his perpetual youth, once led into a blunder some foolish Benedictine monks, 
who found in Constantinople an antique agate intaglio, representing a young man 
with a cornucopia, and an eagle, and with a figure of victory placing a crown on his 
head. This struck their monkish fancies at once, as an unquestionable portrait of 
John, sent to their hands by a miraculous preservation. Examination however, has 
shown it to be a representation of the apotheosis of Germanicus. 

But even here, the monkish inventors have found room for new 
fables ; and though the great weight of all ancient testimony de- 
prives them of the opportunity to enter into the horrible details 
of a bloody and agonizing death, they can not refuse themselves 
the pleasure of some tedious absurdities, about the manner of his 
death and burial, which are barely worth a partial sketch, to show 
how determined the apostolic novelists are to follow their heroes 
to the very last, with the glories of a fancifully miraculous de- 
parture. 

The circumstances of his death are described in the martyro- 
iogies, and by Abdias, in this manner. He had a vision acquaint- 
ing him with his approaching exit, five days before it happened. 



354 



JOHN. 



On a Lord's-day morning, he went to the great church at Ephe- 
sus, bearing his name, and there performed public worship as 
usual, at day-break. About the middle of the forenoon, he or- 
dered a deacon, and some grave diggers, with their tools, to ac- 
company him to the burying ground. He then set them to dig- 
ging his grave, while he, after ordering the multitude to depart, 
spent the time in prayer. He once looked into the grave, and bid 
them dig it deeper. When it was finished, he took off his outer 
garment, and spread it in the grave. Then, standing over it, he 
made a speech to those present, (which is not worth repeating,) 
then gave thanks to God for the arrival of the time of his re- 
lease, — and placing himself in the grave, and wrapping himself 
up, he instantly expired. The grave was filled up ; and after- 
wards miracles took place at it, and a kind of manna issued from 
it, which possessed great virtues. 

There is no need, however, of such fables, to crown with the 
false honors of a vain prodigy, the calmly glorious end of the 
" Last of the Apostles." It is enough for the Christian to know, 
that, with the long, bright course of almost a century behind him, 
and with the mighty works of his later years around him, John 
closed the solemn apostolic drama, bearing with him in his late 
departure the last light of inspiration, and the last personal " tes- 
timony of Jesus, which is the spirit of prophecy." Blessed in his 
works thus following him, he died in the Lord, and now rests 
from his labors on the breast of that loved friend, who cherished 
so tenderly the youthful Son of Thunder ; — on the bosom of his 
Redeemer and his Lord, — 

" The bosom of his Father and his God." 



PHILIP 



In all the three gospel lists, this apostle is placed fifth in order, 
the variations in the arrangements of the preceding making no 
difference in his position. In the first chapter of Acts, however, 
a different arrangement is made of his name, as will be hereafter 
mentioned. The mere mention of his name on the list, is all the 
notice taken of him by either of the three first evangelists, and it 
is only in the gospel of John, that the slightest additional circum- 
stance can be learned about him. From this authority it is as- 
certained that he was of Bethsaida, the city of Andrew and Peter, 
and probably also the home or frequent visiting-place of the sons 
of Zebedee, by the younger of whom he is so particularly com- 
memorated. Immediately after the narration of the introduction 
of Andrew, John and Peter, to Jesus, in the first chapter of this 
gospel, it is said that Jesus next proceeded from Bethabara into 
Galilee, and there finds Philip ; but the particular place is not 
mentioned, though Bethsaida being immediately after mentioned 
as his home, very probably was the place of the meeting. An- 
drew and Peter, on their return home, had doubtless had no small 
talk among their acquaintances, about the wonderful person an- 
nounced as the Messiah, to whom they had been introduced, and 
had thus satisfied themselves that he was really the divine char- 
acter he was said to be. Philip too, must have heard of him in 
this way, before he saw him ; so that when Jesus met him, he was 
prepared at once to receive the call which Jesus immediately gave 
him, — " Follow me." From the circumstance that he was the 
first person who was summoned by Jesus, in this particular for- 
mula of invitation to the discipleship, some writers have, not with- 
out reason, claimed for Philip the name and honors of the Pro- 
toclete, or "first-called ;" though Andrew has commonly been 
considered as best entitled to this dignity, from his being the first 
mentioned by name, as actually becoming acquainted with Jesus. 



356 philif, 

Philip was so devoutly engaged, at once, in the cause of his new 
Master, that he, like Andrew, immediately sought out others to 
share the blessings of the discipleship ; and soon after meeting one 
of his friends, Nathanael. he expressed the ardor of his faith in his 
new teacher, by the words in which he invited him to join in this 
honorable fellowship, — " We have found him of whom Moses, in 
the law, and all the prophets did write,— Jesus of Nazareth, the 
son of Joseph." The result of this application will be related in 
the life of the person most immediately concerned. After this, no 
notice whatever is taken of Philip except where incidental remarks 
made by him in the conversations of Jesus, are recorded by John. 
Thus, at the feeding of the five thousand, upon Jesus's asking 
whether they had the means of procuring food for the multitude, 
Philip answered, that " two hundred pence would not buy enough 
for. them, that every one might take a little,"— thus showing him- 
self not at all prepared by his previous faith in Jesus, for the great 
miracle which was about to happen ; though Jesus had asked the 
question, as John says, with the actual design of trying the extent 
of his confidence in him. He is afterwards mentioned in the last 
conversations of Jesus, as saying to him, " Show us the Father, 
and it sufficeth lis," — here too, betraying also a most unfortunate 
deficiency, both of faith and knowledge, and implying also a vain 
desire to gratify his eyes with still more miraculous displays of 
the divine power of his Master ; though, even in this respect, he 
probably was no worse off than all the rest of the disciples, before 
the resurrection of Jesus. 

Protoclete. — Hammond claims this peculiar honor for Philip, with great zeal. 
(See his notes on John i. 43.) 

Of his apostleship not one word is recorded in the New Tes- 
tament, for he is no where mentioned in the Acts, except as being 
one of the apostles assembled in the upper chamber after the as- 
cension ; nor do the epistles contain the slightest allusion to him. 
Some of the most ancient authorities among the Fathers, how- 
ever, are distinct in their mention of some circumstances of his 
later life ; but all these accounts are involved in total discredit, 
by the fact that they make him identical with Philip the deacon, 
whose active and zealous labors in Samaria, and along the coast 
of Palestine, from Gaza, through Ashdod to Caesarea, his home, 
are minutely related in the Acts, and have been already alluded 
to, in that part of the life of Peter which is connected with these 
incidents. It has always been supposed, with much reason, in 



philif. 357 

modern times, that the offices of an apostle and a deacon were so 
totally distinct and different, that they could never both be borne 
by one and the same person ; but the Fathers, even the very an- 
cient ones, seem to have had not the slightest idea of any such in- 
compatibility ; and therefore uniformly speak of Philip the apostle, 
as the same person with Philip, one of the seven deacons, who is 
mentioned by Luke, in the Acts of the Apostles, as having lived at 
Caesarea, in Palestine, with his daughters, who were virgins and 
prophetesses. Testimony more distinct than this, can no where 
be found, among all the Fathers, on any point whatever ; and very 
little that is more ancient. Yet how does it accord with the no- 
tions of those who revere these very Fathers as almost immacu- 
late in truth, and in all intellectual, as well as moral excellence 1 
What is the evidence of these boasted Fathers worth, on any point 
in controversy about apostolic church government, or doctrine, or 
criticism, if the modern notion of the incompatibility of the two 
offices of apostle and deacon is correct ? 

The testimony of the Fathers on this point, is simply this. Eusebius (Hist, Ecc. 
III. 31,) quotes Polycrates, bishop of Ephesus, who, in his letter to Victor, bishop of 
Rome, (written A. D. 195, or 196,) makes mention of Philip in these exact words : 
"Philip, who was one of the twelve apostles, died in Hierapolis ;" (in Phrygia ;) " and 
so did two of his daughters, who had grown old in virginity. And another of his 
daughters, after having passed her life under the influence of the Holy Spirit, was 
buried at Ephesus." This certainly is a most perfect identification of Philip the apos- 
tle with Philip the deacon; for it is this latter person who is particularly mentioned in 
Acts, xxi. 8, 9, as " having four daughters who did prophesy." He is there espe- 
cially designated as "Philip the evangelist, one of the seven" while Polycrates ex- 
pressly declares, that this same person " was one of the twelve." Eusebius also, in the 
preceding chapter, quotes Clemens Alex, as mentioning Philip among those apostles 
who were married, because he is mentioned as having had daughters ; and Clemens 
even adds that these were afterwards married, which directly contradicts the previ- 
ous statement of Polycrates, that three of them died virgins, in old age. Yet Euse- 
bius quotes all this stuff, with approbation. 

Papias, (A. D. 140,) bishop of Hierapolis, the very place of the death and burial of 
Philip, is represented by Eusebius as having been well acquainted with the daughters 
of Philip, mentioned in Acts, as the virgin prophetesses. Papias says that he himself 
"heard these ladies say that their father once laised a dead person to life, in their 
time." But it deserves notice, that Papias, the very best authority on this subject, is 
no where quoted as calling this Philip " an apostle ;" though Eusebius, on his own 
authority, gives this name to the Philip of whom Papias speaks. It is therefore rea- 
sonable to conclude, that this blunder, betraying such a want of familiarity with the 
New Testament history, originated after the time of Papias, whose intimate acquaint- 
ance with Philip's family would have enabled him to say, at once, that this was the 
deacon, and not the apostle ; though it is not probable that he was any less deplorably 
ignorant of the scriptures than most of the Fathers were. 

Now what can be said of the testimony oft he Fathers on points where they can not re- 
fer, either to their own personal observation, or to informants who have seen and heard 
what they testify 1 The only way in which they can be shielded from the reproach of 
a gross blunder and a disgraceful ignorance of the New Testament, is, that they were 
right in identifying these two Philips, and that modern theologians are wrong in ma- 
king the distinction. On this dilemma I will not pretend to decide ; for though so lit- 
tle reverence for the judgment and information of the Fathers has been shown in this 

46 



358 philip. 

book, there does seem to me to be some reason for hesitation on this point, where the 
Fathers ought to have been as well informed as any body. They must have known 
surely, whether, according to the notions of those primitive ages of Christianity, 
there was any incompatibility between the apostleship and the deaconship ! If their 
testimony is worth anything on such points, it ought to weigh so much on this, as to 
cause a doubt whether they are not right, and the moderns wrong. However, barely 
suggesting this query, without attempting a decision, as Lather says, " I will afford 
to other and higher spirits, occasion to reflect." 

This is all the satisfaction that the brief records of the inspired 
or uninspired historians of Christianity can give the inquirer, on 
the life of this apostle : — so unequal were the labors of the first 
ministers of Christ, and their claims for notice. Philip, no doubt, 
served the purpose for which he was called, faithfully ; but in these 
brief sketches, there are no traces of any genius of a high char- 
acter, that could distinguish him above the thousands that are 
forgotten, but whose labors, like those of the minutest animals in 
a mole-hill, contribute an indispensable portion to the completion 
of the mass, in whose mighty structure all their individual efforts 
are swallowed up forever. 

And though the ancient Polycrates may have blundered griev- 
ously, in respect to the apostle's personal identity, his hope of the 
glorious resurrection of those whom he supposed to have died in 
Asia will doubtless be equally well rewarded, if, to the amaze- 
ment of the Fathers, the apostle Philip should rise at last from 
the dust of Babylon, or the ashes of Jerusalem, while his name- 
sake, the evangelist, shall burst from his tomb in Hierapolis. 
" For," as Polycrates truly says, " in Asia, some great lights have 
gone down, which shall rise again on that day of the Lord's ap- 
proach, when he shall come from the heavens in glory, and shall 
raise up all his saints ; — Philip, one of the twelve apostles, who 
sleeps at Hierapolis, with his venerable virgin daughters, — John, 
who lay in the bosom of the Lord, and who is laid at Ephesus, — 
Polycarp, at Smyrna, — Thraseas, at Eumenia, — Sagaris, at Laodi- 
cea, — Papirius and Melito, at Sardis — all await the visitation of 
the Lord from the heavens, in which he shall raise them from the 
dead." 



NATHANAEL, BARTHOLOMEW. 



HIS NAME AND CALL. 

In respect to this apostle, there occurs a primary question about 
his name, which is given so differently in different sacred author- 
ities, as to induce a strong suspicion that the two names refer to 
two totally distinct persons. The reasons for applying the two 
words, Nathanael and Bartholomew, to the same person, are the 
circumstances, — that none of the three first evangelists mention 
any person named Nathanael, and that John never mentions the 
name Bartholomew, — that Bartholomew and Nathanael are each 
mentioned on these different, authorities, among the chosen disci- 
ples of Jesus,-- that Bartholomew is mentioned by the three first 
evangelists, on all the lists, directly after Philip, who is by John 
represented as his intimate friend,— and that Bartholomew is not 
an individual name, but a word showing parentage merely, — the 
first syllable being often prefixed to Syriac names, for this pur- 
pose • and jBar-Tholomew means the " son of Tholomew," or 
" Tholomai ;" just as Bar- Jonah means the " son of Jonah ;" nor 
was the former any more in reality the personal, individual name 
of Nathanael, than the latter was of Peter ; but some circumstance 
may have occurred to make it, in this instance, often take the 
place of the true individual name. 

A few very brief notices are given of this apostle by John, who 
alone alludes to him, otherwise than by a bare mention on the 
list. It is mentioned in his gospel that Nathanael was of Cana, in. 
Galilee, a town which stood about half-way between lake Gennes- 
aret and the Mediterranean sea ; but the circumstances of his call 
seem to show that he was then with Philip, probably at or near 
Bethsaida. Philip, after being summoned by Jesus to the disciple- 
ship, immediately sought to bring his friend Nathanael into an en- 
joyment of the honors of a personal intercourse with Jesus, and 



360 NATHANAEL. 

invited him to become a follower of the Messiah, foretold by Mo- 
ses and the prophets, who had now appeared, as Jesus of Naza- 
reth, the son of Joseph. On hearing of that mean place, as the 
home of the promised King of Israel, Nathan ael, with great scorn f 
replied, in inquiry, " Can any good thing come out of Nazareth ?" 
To this sneering question 7 Philip answered by the simple proposi- 
tion, " Come and see ;"--- wisely judging that no argument could 
answer his friend's prejudice so well as an actual observation of 
the character and aspect of the Nazarene himself. Nathanael, ac- 
cordingly, persuaded by the earnestness of his friend, came along 
with him, perhaps, partly to gratify him, but, no doubt, with his 
curiosity somewhat moved to know what could have thus brought 
Philip into this devout regard for a citizen of that dirty little town ; 
and he therefore readily accompanied him to see what sort of 
prophet could come out of Nazareth. 

The words with which Jesus greeted Nathanael, even before he 
had been personally introduced, or was prepared for any saluta- 
tion, are the most exalted testimonial of his character that could 
be conceived, and show at once his very eminent qualifications 
for the high honors of the apostleship. When Jesus saw Na- 
thanael coming to him, he said, " Behold a true son of Israel, in 
whom is no guile !" — -manifesting at once a confidential and inti- 
mate knowledge of his whole character, in thus pronouncing with 
such ready decision, this high and uncommon tribute of praise 
upon him, as soon as he appeared before him. Nathanael, quite 
surprised at this remarkable compliment from one whom he had 
never seen until that moment, and whom he supposed to be equal- 
ly ignorant of him, replied with the inquiry, " Whence knowest 
thou me ?" Jesus answered, " Before Philip called thee, when 
thou wast under the fig-tree, I saw thee." The fig-trees of Pal- 
estine, presenting a wide, leafy cover, and a delightful shade, were 
often used in the warm season as places of retirement, either in 
company, for conversation, or in solitude, for meditation and 
prayer, as is shown in numerous passages of the Rabbinical wri- 
tings ; and it was, doubtless, in one of these occupations that Na- 
thanael was engaged, removed, as he supposed, from all observa- 
tion, at the time to which Jesus referred. But the eye that could 
pierce the stormy shades of night on the boisterous waves of Gal- 
ilee, and that could search the hearts of all men, could also pene- 
trate the thick, leafy veil of the fig-tree, and observe the most se- 
cret actions of this guileless Israelite, when he supposed the whole 



NATHANAEL. 361 

world to be shut out, and gave himself to the undisguised enjoy- 
ment of his thoughts, feelings, and actions, without restraint. 
Nathanael, struck with sudden but absolute conviction, at this 
amazing display of knowledge, gave up all his proud scruples 
against the despised Nazarene, and adoringly exclaimed, " Rabbi ! 
thou art the Son of God,— thou art the King of Israel." Jesus, 
recognizing with pleasure the ready faith of this pure-minded dis- 
ciple, replied, "Because I said unto thee, 'I saw thee under the 
fig-tree,' — believest thou ? Thou shalt see yet greater things than 
these." Then turning to Philip as well as to Nathanael, he says 
to them both, " I solemnly assure you, hereafter ye shall see 
heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending 
upon the Son of Man." 

On the day but one after this occurrence, as John records, Je- 
sus was in Cana of Galilee, the residence of Nathanael, and was 
present at a wedding which took place there. From the circum- 
stance that the mother of Jesus was there also, it would seem 
likely that it was the marriage of some of their family friends * 
otherwise the conjecture might seem allowable, that the presence 
of Jesus and his disciples on this occasion, was in some way con- 
nected with the introduction of Nathanael to Jesus ; and that this 
new disciple may have been some way concerned in this interest- 
ing event. The manner in which the occurrence is announced, 
— it being next specified, that two days after the occurrences re- 
corded in the end of the first chapter, Jesus was present at a mar- 
riage in Cana of Galilee, — would seem to imply very fairly, that 
Jesus had been in some other place immediately before ; and it is 
probable therefore, that he accompanied Nathanael home from 
Bethsaida, or whatever place was the scene of his calling to the 
discipleship, along with Philip. The terms of the statement are 
not, however, absolutely incompatible with the idea of this first in- 
troduction of these two disciples to Jesus, in Cana itself, which 
may have been the part of Galilee into which Jesus is said to have 
gone forth, after leaving Bethabara ; although, the reasons above 
given make it probable that Bethsaida was the scene. After this 
first incident, no mention whatever is made of Nathanael, either 
under his proper name, or his paternal appellation, except that 
when the twelve were sent forth in pairs, he was sent with his 
friend Philip, that those who had been summoned to the work to- 
gether, might now go forth laboring together in this high com- 
mission. One solitary incident is also commemorated by John, 



362 



NATHANAEL. 



in which this apostle was concerned, namely, the meeting on the 
lake of Gennesaret, after the resurrection, where his name is men- 
tioned among those who went out on the fishing excursion with 
Peter. His friend Philip is not there mentioned, but may have 
been one of the " two disciples," who are included without their 
names being given. From this trifling circumstance, some have 
concluded that Nathanael was a fisherman by trade, as well as 
the other four who are mentioned with him ; and certainly the 
conjecture is reasonable, and not improbable, except from the cir- 
cumstance, that his residence was at Cana, which is commonly 
understood to have been an inland town, and too far from the 
water, for any of its inhabitants to follow fishing as a business. 
Other idle conjectures about his occupation and rank might be 
multiplied from most anciently and venerably foolish authorities ; 
but let the dust of ag*es sleep on the prosy guesses of the Grego- 
ries, of Chrysostom, Augustin, and their reverential copyists in 
modern times. There is too much need of room in this book, 
for the detail and discussion of truth, to allow paper to be wasted 
on baseless conjectures, or impudent falsehoods. 

HIS APOSTLESHIP. 

There is a dim relic of a story, of quite ancient date, that after 
the dispersion of the apostles, he went to Arabia, and preached 
there till his death. This is highly probable, because it is well 
known that many of the Jews, more particularly after the destruc- 
tion of Jerusalem, settled along the eastern coasts of the Red sea, 
where they were continued for centuries. Nothing can be more 
reasonable then, than to suppose that after the wasting fury of in- 
vasion had desolated the city and the land of their fathers, many 
of the Christian Jews too, went forth to seek a new home in the 
peaceful regions of Arabia Felix ; and that with them also went 
forth this true Israelite without guile, to devote the rest of his life 
to apostolic labors, in that distant country, where those of his 
wandering brethren, who had believed in Christ, would so much 
need the support and counsel of one of the divinely commissioned 
ministers of the gospel. Those Israelites too, who still continued 
unbelievers, would present objects of importance, in the view of 
the apostle. All the visible glories of the ancient covenant had 
departed ; and in that distant land, with so little of the chilling in- 
fluence of the dogmatical teachers of the law around them, they 
would be the more readily led to the just appreciation of a spirit- 
ual faith, and a simple creed. 



NATHANAEL. 363 

All the testimony which antiquity affords on this point, is simply this:— Eusebius 
(Hist. Ecc. V. 10,) says, in giving the life of Pantaenus of Alexandria, (who lived 
about A. D. 180,) that this enterprising Christian philosopher penetrated, in his 
researches and travels, as far as to the inhabitants of India. It has been shown by 
Tillemont, Asseman and Michaelis, that this term, in this connection, means Arabia 
Felix, one part of whose inhabitants were called Indians, by the Hebrews, the Syrians 
and the early ecclesiastical historians. Eusebius relates that Pantaenus there found 
the gospel of Matthew, in Hebrew, and that the tradition among these people was, 
that Bartholomew, one of the twelve apostles, had formerly preached there, and left 
this gospel among them. This tradition being only a hundred years old when Pan- 
taenus heard it, ranks among those of raster respectable character. 

The tradition certainly appears authentic, and is a very inter- 
esting and valuable fragment of early Christian history, giving a 
trace of the progress of the gospel, which otherwise would never 
have been recognized, — besides the satisfaction of such a reasona- 
ble story about an apostle of whom the inspired narrative records 
so little, although he is represented in such an interesting light, 
by the account of his introduction to Jesus. Here he learned the 
meaning of the solemn prophecy with which Jesus crowned that 
noble profession of faith. Here he saw, no doubt, yet greater to- 
kens of the power of Christ, than in the deep knowledge of hidden 
things then displayed. And here, resting at last from his labors, 
he departed to the full view of the glories there foretold, — to " see 
heaven opened, and the angels of God ascending and descending 
upon the Son of Man." 



MATTHEW 



HIS RANK AND NAME. 

In his own gospel, Matthew is not ranked immediately after 
the preceding apostle, but numbers himself eighth on the list, and 
after his associate, Thomas ; but all the other lists agree in giv- 
ing this apostle a place immediately after Nathanael. The testi- 
mony of others in regard to his rank has therefore been adopted, 
in preference to his own, which was evidently influenced by a too 
modest estimation of himself. 

In connection with this apostle, as in other instances, there is a se- 
rious question about his name and individual identity, arising from 
the different appellations under which he is mentioned in different 
parts of the sacred record. In his own gospel, he is referred to 
by no other name than his common one : but by Mark and 
Luke, the circumstances of his call are narrated, with the details 
almost precisely similar to those recorded of the same occurrence 
by himself, and yet the person thus called, (in the same form of 
words used in summoning the other apostles,) is named Levi, the 
son of Alpheus ; though Mark and Luke record Matthew by his 
common name among the twelve, in the list of names. Some 
have thought that the circumstance of their mentioning Matthew 
in this manner, without referring at all to his identity with the 
person named Levi, proves that they too had no idea that the 
former name was applied to the same person as the latter, and 
on the contrary, were detailing the call of some other disciple, — 
perhaps Jude, who also is called by the similar name, Lebbeus, 
and is known to have been the son of Alpheus. This view is not 
improbable, and is so well supported by coinciding circumstances, 
as to throw great uncertainty over the whole matter ; though not 
entirely to set aside the probabilities arising from the almost per- 
fect similarity between Matthew's call, as related by himself, and the 
call of Levi, the son of Alpheus, as given in the other gospels. 



MATTHEW. 365 

On the question of Matthew's identity with Levi, Michaelisis full. (Int. III. iv. 1.) 
Fabricius (Biblioth. Graec. IV. vii. 2,) discusses the question quite at length, and 
his annotators give abundance of references to authors, in detail, in addition to those 
mentioned by himself, in the text. 

HIS CALL. 

The circumstances of his call, as narrated by himself, are rep- 
resented as occurring at or near Capernaum. " Jesus, passing out 
of the city, saw a man named Matthew, sitting at the receipt of 
custom, and he said to him, — l Follow me.' And he arose, and 
followed him." This account shows Matthew's occupation, which 
is also known from the title of " the tax-gatherer," annexed to 
his name, in his own list of the apostles. This was an occupa- 
tion which, though unquestionably a source of great profit to 
those employed in it, and consequently as much sought after as 
such offices are in these days, and in this country, was always 
connected with a great deal of popular odium, from the relation 
in which they stood to the people, in this profitable business. The 
class of collectors to which Matthew belonged, in particular, be- 
ing the mere toll-gatherers, sitting to collect the money, penny by 
penny, from the unwilling people, whose national pride was every 
moment wounded by the degrading foreign exactions of the Ro- 
mans, suffered under a peculiar ignominy, and were supposed to 
have renounced all patriotism and honor, in stooping, for the base 
purposes of pecuniary gain, to act as instruments of such a galling 
form ox" servitude, and were therefore visited with a universal pop- 
ular hatred and scorn. A class of men thus deprived of all char- 
acter for honor and delicacy of feeling, would naturally grow har- 
dened, beyond all sense of shame ; and this added to the usual of- 
ficial impudence which characterizes all mean persons, holding a 
place which gives them the power to annoy others, the despised 
publicans would generally repay this spite, on every occasion, 
which could enable them to be vexatious to those who came in 
contact with them. Yet out of this hated class, Jesus did not dis- 
dain to take at least one, — perhaps more, — of those whom he 
chose for the express purpose of building up a pure faith, and of 
evangelizing the world. No doubt, before the occasion of this 
call, Matthew had been a frequent hearer of the words of truth 
which fell from the divinely eloquent lips of the Redeemer, — 
words that had not been without a purifying and exalting effect 
on the heart of the publican, though long so degraded by daily 
and hourly familiarity with meanness and vice. And so weaned 
was his soul from the love of the gainful pursuit to which he had 

47 



366 



MATTHEW. 



been devoted, that at the first call from Jesus, he arose from the* 
place of toll -gathering, and followed his summoner, to a duty for 
which his previous occupation had but poorly prepared him. With 
such satisfaction did he renounce his old vocation, for the disci- 
pleship of the Nazarene, that he made it a great occasion of re- 
joicing, and celebrated the day as a festival, calling in all his old 
friends as well as his new ones, to share in the hospitable enter- 
tainment which he spread for all who could join with him in the 
social circle. Nor did the holy Redeemer despise the rough 
and indiscriminate company to which the grateful joy of Matthew 
had invited him ■ but rejoicing in an opportunity to do good to a 
class of people so seldom brought under the means of grace, he 
unhesitatingly sat down to the entertainment with his disciples, 
—Savior and sinners, toll-gatherers and apostles, all thronging in 
one motley group, around the festive board. What a sight was 
this for the eyes of the proud Pharisees who were spitefully watch- 
ing the conduct of the man who had lately taken upon himself 
the exalted character of a teacher, and a reformer of the law ! 
Passing into the house with the throng who entered at the open 
doors of the hospitable Matthew, — they saw the much glorified 
prophet of Nazareth, sitting at the social table along with a parcel 
of low custom-house collectors, toll-gatherers, tide-waiters and 
cheats, one of whose honorable fraternity he had just adopted in- 
to the -goodly fellowship of his £lisciples, and was now eating and 
drinking with these outcast villains, without repelling the familiar 
merriment even of the lowest of them. At this spectacle, so de- 
grading to such a dignity as they considered most becoming in 
one who aspired to be a teacher of morals and religion, the scribes 
and Pharisees sneeringly asked the disciples of Jesus, — "Why 
eateth your Master with tax-gatherers and sinners ?" Jesus, hear- 
ing the malicious inquiry, answered it in such a tone of irony as 
best suited its impertinence. " They that are whole, need not a 
physician, but they that are sick. But go ye and learn what this 
means, — ' I will have mercy, rather than sacrifice ;' for I am not 
come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance." 

HIS GOSPEL. 

After the history of his call, not one circumstance is related 
respecting him, either in the gospels, the Aets or the epistles. In 
his own gospel, he makes not the slightest allusion to anything 
either said or done by himself; nor does his name anywhere oc- 
cur except in the apostolic lists. Even the Fathers are silent as 



MATTHEW. 367 

to any other important circumstances of his life, and it is only in 
the noble record which he lias left of the life of Christ, in the 
gospel which bears his name, that any monument of his actions 
and character can now be found. Yet this solitary remaining 
effort of his genius is of such importance in the history of re- 
vealed religion, that hardly the most eminent of the apostles is so 
often brought to mind, as. the evangelist, whose clear, simple, but 
impressive testimony to the words and deeds of his Lord, now 
stands at the head of the sacred canon. 

On the history of this portion of the Christian scriptures, the 
testimony of the Fathers, from very early times, is very decided. 
in maintaining the fact, that it was written in the vernacular lan- 
guage of Palestine. The very earliest testimony on this point, 
dating within seventy-five years of the time of Matthew himself, 
expressly declares that Matthew wrote his gospel in the Hebrew 
language ; and that each one interpreted it for himself as he could. 
It is also said on somewhat early authority, that he wrote his gos- 
pel when about to depart from Palestine, that those whom he left 
behind him might have an authentic record of the facts in the 
life of Christ. So that by these and a great number of other tes- 
timonies, uniformly to the same effect, the point seems well estab- 
lished that Matthew wrote in Hebrew ; and that what is now ex- 
tant as his gospel, is only a translation into Greek, made in some 
later age, by some person unknown. 

I. In what language did Matthew write his Gospel 1 
In mentioning the Hebrew as the original language of the gospel of Matthew, it 
should be noticed, that the dialect spoken by the Jews of the time of Christ and his 
apostles, was by no means the language in which the Old Testament was written, 
and which is commonly meant by this name at present. The true ancient Hebrew 
had long before become a dead language, as truly so as it is now, and as much un- 
known to the mass of the people, as the Latin is in Italy, or the Anglo-Saxon in Eng- 
land. Yet the language was still called " the Hebrew" as appears from several pas- 
sages In the New Testament, where the Hebrew is spoken of as the vernacular Ian- - 
guage of the Jews of Palestine. It seems proper therefore, to designate the later He- 
brew by the same name which is applied to it by those who spoke it, and this is still 
among modern writers the term used for it ; but of late, some, especially Hug and his 
commentator,Wait, have introduced the name "Aramaic," as a distinctive title of this 
dialect, deriving this term from Aram, the original name of Syria, and the regions 
around, in all which was spoken in the time of Christ, this or a similar dialect. This 
term however, is quite unnecessary ; and I therefore prefer to use here the common 
name, as above limited, because it is the one used in the New Testament, and is the 
one in familiar use, not only with common readers, but, as far as I know, with the 
majority of Biblical critics. 

Though the evidence that Matthew wrote his gospel in Hebrew, is apparently of 
the most uniform, weighty and decisive character, there have been man}' among the 
learned, within the three last centuries, who have denied it, and have brought the best 
of their learning and ability to prove that the Greek gospel of Matthew, which is now 
in the New Testament, is the original production of his pen ; and so skilfully has this 
modern view been maintained, that this has already been made one of the most doubt- 
ful questions in the history of the canon, In Germany more particularly, (but not 



368 



MATTHEW. 



entirely,) this notion has, during the last century, been strongly supported by many who 
do not like the idea, that we are in possession only of a translation of this most im- 
portant record of sacred history, and that the original is now lost forever. ~ Those 
who have more particularly distinguished themselves on this side of the controversy, 
are Maius, Schroeder, Masch and Hug, but the great majority of critics still support 
the old view. 

The earliest evidence for the Hebrew original of Matthew's gospel, is Papias of 
Hierapolis, (as early as A. D. 140,) not long after the times of the apostles, and ac- 
quainted with many who knew them personally. Eusebius (H. E., III. 39,) quotes 
the words of Papias, (of which the original is now lost,) which are exactly translated 
here : — " Matthew therefore wrote the divine words in the Hebrew language ; and 
every one translated them as he could." By which it appears that in the time of Pa- 
pias there was no universally acknowledged translation of Matthew's gospel ; but 
that every one was still left to his own private discretion, in giving the meaning in 
Greek from the original Hebrew. The value of Papias's testimony on any point 
connected with the history of the apostles, may be best learned from his own simple 
and honest account of his opportunities and efforts to inquire into their history ; (as 
recorded by Eusebius in a former part of the same chapter.) " If any person who 
had ever been acquainted with the elders, came into my company, I inquired of them 
the words of the elders ; — what Andrew and Peter said 1 — what Thomas, and James, 
and John> and Matthew, and the other disciples of the Lord used to say V — All this 
shows an inquiring, zealous mind, faithful in particulars, and ready in improving op- 
portunities for acquiring historical knowledge. Yet because in another part of the 
works of Eusebius, he is characterized as rather enthusiastic, and ver) r weak in judg- 
ment, more particularly in respect to doctrines, some moderns have attempted to set 
aside his testimony, as worth nothing on this simple historical point, the decision of 
which, from the direct personal witness of those who had seen Matthew and read his 
original gospel, needed no more judgment than for a man to remember his own name. 
The argument offered to discredit Papias, is this : — " He believed in a bodily reign of 
the Messiah on the earth, during the whole period of the millennium, and for this 
and some similar errors, is pronounced by Eusebius, ' a man of very weak judgment,' 
— {raw cfiiKpos rov vow.) Therefore, he could not have known in what language Mat- 
thew wrote." The objection certainly is worth something against a man who made 
such errors as Papias, in questions where any nice discrimination is necessary, but 
in a simple effort of a ready memory, he is as good a witness as though he had the 
discrimination of a modern skeptical critic. (In Michaelis's Int.N. T., vol. III. c. iv. 
§ 4, is a full discussion of Papias's character and testimony, and the objections to 
them.) 

The second witness is Irenaeus, (A. D. 1G0,) who. however, coupling his testimony 
with a demonstrated falsehood, destnws the value which might be otherwise put upon 
a statement so ancient as his. His words aie quoted by Eusebius, (H. E., V. 8.) " Mat- 
thew published among the Hebrews his gospel, written in their own language, (n? ifau 
avruv 8ia\eKTu>,) while Peter and Paul were preaching Christ at P«.ome, and laying the 
foundations of the church." This latter circumstance is no great help to the story, af- 
ter what has been proved on this point in the notes on Peter's life; but the critics do 
not pretend to attack it on this ground. They urge against it, that as Irenaeus had a 
great regard for Papias, and took some facts on his word, he probably look this also 
from him, with no oilier authority, — a guess, which only wants proof, to make it a 
very tolerable argument. Let Irenaeus go for what he is worth; there are enough 
without him. 

The third witness is Pantaenus of Alexandria, already quoted in the note on Na- 
thanael's life, (p. 363,) as having found this Hebrew gospel still in use, in that lan- 
guage, among the Jews of Arabia-Felix, towards the end of the second century. 

The fourth witness is Origen,(A. D. 230,) whose words on this point are preserved 
only in a quotation made by Eusebius, (H. E., VI. 25,) who thus gives them from Or- 
igen's commentary on Matthew. " As I have learned by tradition concerning the 
four gospels, which alone are received without dispute by the church of God under 
heaven : the first was written by Matthew, once a tax-gatherer, afterwards an apostle 
of Jesus Christ, who published it for the benefit of the Jewish converts, having com- 
posed it in the Heerew language, &c." The term, " tradition" (irapaoo<ng,) here evi- 
dently means something mo're than floating, unauthorized information, coming mere- 
ly by vague hearsay; for to this source only he refers all his know ledge of the fact, 
that " the gospel was written by Matthew ;" so that, in fact, we have as good author!- 



MATTHEW. 



369 



ty in this place, for believing that Matthew wrote in Hebrew, as we have that lie 
wrote at all. The other circumstances specified, also show clearly, that he did not 
derive all his information on this point from Papias, as some have urged ; because 
this account gives facts which that earlier Father did not mention,— as that it was 
written first, and that it was intended for the benefit of the Jewish converts. 

Later authorities, such as Athanasius, Cyril of Jerusalem, Epiphanius, Gregory of 
Nazianzus, and others, might be quoted in detail, to the same effect; but this general 
statement is sufficient for this place. The scholar of course, will refer to the works 
on critical theology for detailed abstracts of these, as well as the former writers. 
Michaelis is very full, both in extracts and discussions. Hug also gives a minute 
account of the evidence, with the view of refuting it. 

The testimony of Jerome [A. D. 395,] is however, so full and explicit, and so val- 
uable from his character as a Hebrew scholar, that it may well be esteemed of high- 
er importance to the question, than that of some earlier writers. His words are, — 
" Matthew composed his gospel in Hebrew letters and ivords, but it is not very well 
known who afterwards translated it. Moreover, the very Hebrew original itself is 
preserved even to this day, in the library at Caesarea, which the martyr Pamphilus, 
most industriously collected. I also had the opportunity of copying [describendi] 
this book by means of the Nazareans in Beroea, a city of Syria, who use this book." 
[Jerome De scriptoribus ecclesiast. Vita Matt.] Another passage from the same 
author is valuable testimony to the same purpose, — " Matthew wrote his gospel in the 
Hebrew language, principally for the sake of those Jews who believed in Jesus." 

Now these testimonies, though coming from an authority so late, are of the highest 
value when his means of learning the truth are considered. By his own statement 
it appears that he had actually, seen and examined, the original Hebrew gospel of 
Matthew, or what was considered to be such, as preserved in the valuable collections 
of Pamphilius, at a place within the region for which it was first written. It has been 
urged that Jerome confounded the " gospel according to the Hebrews," an apocry- 
phal book, with the true original of Matthew. But this is disproved, from the circum- 
stance that Jerome himself translated this apocryphal gospel from the Hebrew into 
Latin, while he says that the translator of Matthew was unknown. 

In addition to these authorities from the Fathers, may be quoted the statements ap- 
pended to the ancient Syriac and Arabic versions, which distinctly declare that Mat- 
thew wrote in Hebrew. This was also the opinion of all the learned Syrians. 

The great argument with which all this evidence is met, (besides discrediting 
the witnesses,) is that Matthew ought to have written in Greek, and therefore 
did. (Matthaeus Graece scribere debuit. Schubert. Diss. § 24.) This sounds very 
strangely; that, without any direct ancient testimony to support the assertion, but a 
great number of distinct assertions against it from the very earliest Fathers, moderns 
should now pronounce themselves better judges of what Matthew ought to do, than 
those who were so near to his time, and were so well acquainted with his de- 
sign, and all the circumstances under which it was executed. Yet, strangely as it 
sounds, an argument of even this presumptuous aspect, demands the most respectful 
consideration, more especially Irom those who have had frequent occasion, on other 
points, to notice the very contemptible character of the " testimony of the Fathers." 
It should be noticed however, that, in this case, the argument does not rest on a mere 
floating tradition, like many other mooted points in early Christian history, but in 
most of the witnesses, is referred to direct personal knowledge of the facts, and, in 
some cases, to actual inspection of the original. 

It is proper to notice the reasons for thinking that Matthew ought to have written 
in Greek, which have influenced such minds as those of Erasmus, Beza, Ittig, 
Leusden, Spanheim, LeClerc, Semler, Hug and others, and which have had a deci- 
sive weight with such wonderfully deep Hebrew scholars, as Wagenseil, Lightfool, 
John Henry Michaelis, and Reland. The amount of the argument is, mainly, that 
the Greek was then so widely and commonly spoken even in Palestine, as to be the 
most desirable language for the evangelist to use in preserving for the benefit of his 
own countrymen, the record of the life of Christ. The particulars of the highlv 
elaborate and learned arguments, on which this assertion has been rested, have filled 
volumes, nor can even an abstract be allowed here; but a simple reference to com- 
mon facts will do something to show to common readers, the prominent objections to 
the notion of a Greek original. It is perfectly agreed that the Hebrew was the ordi- 
nary language spoken by Christ, in his teachings, and in all his usual intercourse 
with the people around him. That this language was that in which the Jews also 



370 



MATT HEW, 



commonly wrote and read at that time, as far as they were able to do either, in any 
language, is equally plain. In spite of all that Grecian and Roman conquests could 
do, the Jews were still a distinct and peculiar people; nor is there any reason what- 
ever to suppose that they were any less so in language, than they were in dress, man- 
ners, and general character. He, therefore, who desired to write anything for the 
benefit of the Jews, as a nation, would insure it altogether the best attention from 
them, if it came in a form most accordant with their national feelings. They would 
naturally be the first persons whose salvation would be an object to the apostolic wri- 
ters, as to the apostolic preachers, and the feelings of the writer himself, being in 
some degree influenced by love of his own countrymen, he would aim first at the di- 
rect spiritual benefit of those who were his kindred according to the flesh. Among 
all the historical writings of the New Testament, that there shouldbe not one origin- 
ally composed in the language of the people among whom the Savior arose, with 
whom he lived, talked and labored, and for whom he died, would be very strange. 
The fact that a gospel in the Hebrew language was considered absolutely indispen- 
sable for the benefit of the Jewish inhabitants of Palestine, is rendered perfectly in- 
contestable by the circumstance that those apocryphal gospels which were in common 
use among the heretical denominations of that region, were all in Hebrew ; and the 
common argument, that the Hebrew gospel spoken of by the Fathers was translated 
into Hebrew from Matthew's Greek, is itself an evidence that it was absolutely in- 
dispensable that the Jews should be addressed in writing, in that language alone. 
The objection, that the Hebrew original of Matthew was lost so soon, is easily an- 
swered by the fact, that the Jew T s were, in the course of the few first centuries, driv- 
en out of the land of their Fathers so completely, as to destroy the occasion for any • 
such gospel in their language ; for wherever they went, they soon made the dialect of 
the country in which they lived, their only medium of communication, written or 
spoken. 

Fabricius may be advantageously consulted by the scholar for a condensed view of 
the question of the original language of Matthew's gospel, and his references to autho- 
rities, ancient and modern, are numerous and valuable, besides those appended by his 
editors. — The most complete argument ever made out in defense of a Greek original, 
is that by Hug, in his Introduction, whose history of the progress of Grecian influ- 
ence and language in Syria and Palestine, is both interesting and valuable on its own 
account, though made the inefficient instrument of supporting an error. He is very 
ably met by his English translator. Wait, in the introduction to the first volume. A 
very strong defense of a Greek original of Matthew, • is also found in a little quarto 
pamphlet, containing a thesis of a Goettingen student, on taking his degree in theol- 
ogy, in 1810. (Diss. Crit. Exeg. in serm. Matt. &c Auct. Frid. Gul. Schubert.) 
II. What were the Materials of Matthew's Gospel'? 
This point has been made the subject of more discussion and speculation, within 
the last fifty years, among the critical and exegetical theologians of Europe, than any 
other subject connected with the New Testament. Those who wish to see the inter- 
esting details of the modes of explaining the coincidences between the three first 
evangelists, may find much on this subject in Michaelis's Introduction to the N. 
T., and especially in the translation by Bishop Marsh, who, in his notes on Vol. III. 
of Michaelis, has, after a very full discussion of all previous views of the origin of 
the gospels, gone on to build one of the most ingenious speculations on this point that 
was ever conceived on any subject, but which, in its very complicated structure, will 
present a most insuperable objection to its adoption by the vast majority of even his 
critical readers ; and accordingly, though he has received universal praise for the 
great learning and ingenuity displayed in its formation, he has found few support- 
ers, — perhaps none. His views are fully examined and fairly discussed, by the 
anonymous English translator of Dr. F. Schleiermacher's Commentary on Luke, in 
an introductory history of all the German speculations on this subject with which he 
has prefaced that work. The historical sketch there given of the progress of opinion 
on the sources and materials of the three first gospels, is probably the most complete 
account of the whole matter that is accessible in English, and disp^s a very mi- 
nute acquaintance with the German theologians. Hug is also very full on this sub- 
ject, and also discusses the views of Marsh and Michaelis. Hug's translator, Dr. 
Wait, has given, in an introduction to the first volume, a very interesting account of 
these critical controversies, and has large references to many German writers not re- 
ferred to by his author. Bertholdt and Bolten, in particular, are amply quoted and 
disputed by Wait Bloonvfield also, in the prefaces to the first and second volumes 



Matthew. 



371 



of his critical Annotations on the N. T., gives much on the subject that can hardly 
be found any where else by a mere English reader. Large references might be 
made to the. works of the original German writers ; but it would require a very pro- 
tracted statement, and would be useless to nearly all readers, because those to whom 
these rare and deep treasures of sacred knowledge are accessible, are doubtless bet- 
ter able to give an account of them than I am. It may be worth while to mention, 
however, that of all those statements of the facts on this subject with which 1 am ac- 
quainted, none gives a more satisfactory view, than a little Latin monograph, in a 
quarto of eighty pages, written by H. W. Halfeld, (a Goettingen theological stu- 
dent, and a pupil of Eichhorn, for whose views he has a great partiality,) for the 
Royal premium. Its title is, " Commentatio de origine quatuor evangeliorum, et de 
eorum canonica auctoritate." (Goettingen, 1796.) The Bibliotheca Graeca of Fab- 
ricius, (Harles's edition with notes,) contains, in the chapters on the gospels, very rich 
references to the learned authors on these points. Lardner, in his History of the 
Apostles and Evangelists, takes a learned view of the question, " Avhether either of 
the three evangelists had seen the others' writings." This he gives after the lives of 
all four of the evangelists, and it may be referred to for a very full abstract of all the 
old opinions upon the question. Few of these points have any claim for a dis- 
cussion in this book, but some things may very properly be alluded to, in the lives 
of the- other evangelists, where a reference to their resemblances and common sour- 
ces, will be essential to the completeness of the narrative. 

HI. At what time did Matthew write his gospel? 
This is a question on which the records of antiquity afford no 
lio-ht, that can be trusted ; and it is therefore left to be settled en- 
tirely by internal evidence. There are indeed ancient stories, 
that he wrote it nine years after the ascension,— that he wrote it 
fifteen years after that event, — that he wrote it while Peter and 
Paul were preaching at Rome,— or when he was about leaving 
Palestine, &c, all which are about equally valuable. The re- 
sults of the examinations of modern writers, who have labored to 
ascertain the date, have been exceedingly various, and only prob- 
abilities can be stated on this most interesting point of gospel his- 
tory. The most probable conjecture on this point is one based on 
the character of certain passages in Christ's prophecy of the de- 
struction of Jerusalem, which by their vividness in the evangel- 
ist's record, may be fairly presumed to have been written down 
when the crisis in Jewish affairs was highest, and most interest- 
ing ; and when the perilous condition of the innocent Christians 
must have been a matter of the deepest solicitude to the apostles,— 
so much as to deserve a particular provision, by a written testi- 
mony of the impending ruin. A reference made also to a certain 
historical fact in Christ's prophecy, which is known on the testi- 
mony of Josephus, the Jewish historian, to have happened about 
this time, affords another important ground for fixing the date. 
This is the murder of Zachariah, the son of Barachiah, whom the 
Jews slew between the temple and the altar. He relates that the 
ferocious banditti, who had possessed themselves of the strong pla- 
ces of the city, tyrannized over the wretched inhabitants, execu- 



372 MATTHEW- 

ting the most bloody murders daily, among them, and killing, up- 
on the most unfounded accusations, the noblest citizens. Among 
those thus sacrificed by these bloody tyrants, Josephus very mi- 
nutely narrates the murder of Zachariah, the son of Baruch, or 
Baruchus, a man of one of the first families, and of great wealth. 
His independence of character and freedom of speech, denouncing 
the base tyranny under which the city groaned, soon made him 
an object of mortal hatred, to the military rulers ; and his wealth 
also constituted an important incitement to his destruction. He 
was therefore seized, and on the baseless charge of plotting to be- 
tray the city into the hands of Vespasian and the Romans, was 
brought to a trial before a tribunal constituted by themselves, from 
the elders of the people, in the temple, which they had profaned 
by making it their strong hold. The righteous Zachariah, know- 
ing that his doom was irrevocably sealed, determined not to lay 
aside his freedom of speech, even in this desperate pass ; and when 
brought by his iniquitous accusers before the elders who constitu- 
ted the tribunal, in all the eloquent energy of despair, after 
refuting the idle accusations against him, in few words, he turned 
upon his accusers in just indignation, and burst out into the most 
bitter denunciations of their wickedness and cruelty, mingling 
with these complaints, lamentations over the desolate and miser- 
able condition of his ruined country. The ferocious Zealots, ex- 
cited to madness by his dauntless spirit of resistance, instantly 
drew their swords, and threateningly called out to the judges to 
condemn him at once. But even the instruments of their power, 
were too much moved by the heroic innocence of the prisoner, to 
consent to this unjust doom ; and, in spite of these threats, acquit- 
ted him at once. The Zealots then burst out, at once, into fury 
against the judges, and rushed upon them to punish their temeri- 
ty, in declaring themselves willing to die with him, rather than 
unjustly pronounce sentence upon him. Two of the fiercest of 
the ruffians, seizing Zachariah, slew him in the middle of the tem- 
ple, insulting his last agonies, and immediately hurled his warm 
corpse over the terrace of the temple, into the depths of the valley 
below. 

This was, most evidently, the horrible murder, to which Jesus 
referred in his prophecy. Performed thus, just on the eve of the 
last, utter ruin of the temple and the city, it is the only act that 
could be characterized as the crowning iniquity of all the blood 
unrighteously shed, from the earliest time downwards. It has 



MATTHEW. 373 

sometimes been supposed by those ignorant of this remarkable 
event, that the Zachariah here referred to, was Zachariah, son 
of Jehoiada, who in the reign of Joash, king of Judah, was stoned 
by the people, at the command of the king, in the outer court of 
the temple. But there are several circumstances connected with 
that event, which render it impossible to interpret the words of 
Jesus as referring merely to that, although some of the coinciden- 
ces are truly amazing. That Zachariah was the son of Jehoia- 
da, — this was the son of Baruch or Barachiah ; — that Zachari- 
ah was slain in the outer court, — this was slain " in the midst of 
the temple," — that is, " between the temple and the altar." Be- 
sides, Jesus evidently speaks of this Zachariah as a person yet to 
come. " Behold, I send to you prophets, and wise men, and wri- 
ters ; and some of them you shall kill and crucify ; and some of 
them you shall scourge and persecute ; that upon you may come 
all the righteous blood shed upon the earth, from the blood of 
righteous Abel to the blood of Zachariah, the son of Barachiah, 
whom ye slew between the temple and the altar. All these things 
shall come upon this generation." It is true that here, the writer, 
in recording the prophecy, now referring to its fulfilment, turns to 
the Jews, charging it upon them as a crime already past, when he 
writes, though not at the time when the Savior spoke ; and it is 
therefore, by a bold change of tense, that he represents Jesus 
speaking of a future event, as past. But the whole point of the 
discourse plainly refers to future crimes, as well as to future pun- 
ishment. The multitude who heard him, indeed, no doubt consid- 
ered him as pointing, in this particular mention of names, only to 
a past event ; and notwithstanding the difference of minor cir- 
cumstances, probably interpreted his words as referring to the 
Zachariah mentioned in 2 Chronicles, who was stoned for his open 
rebukes of the sins of king and people ; — a conclusion moreover, 
justified by the previous words of Jesus. He had just been de- 
nouncing upon them the sin of their fathers, as the murderers of 
the prophets, whose tombs they were now so ostentatiously build- 
ing ; and if this wonderful accomplishment of his latter words 
had not taken place, it might reasonably be supposed, that he spoke 
of these future crimes only to show that their conduct would soon 
justify his imputation to them of their fathers' guilt ; that they would, 
during that same generation, murder similar persons, sent to them 
on similar divine errands, and thus become sharers in the crime of 
their fathers, who slew Zachariah, the son of Jehoiada, in the 

48 



371 



MATTHEW. 



outer temple. But here now is the testimony of the impartial So- 
sephus, a Jew. — himself a contemporary learner of all these events, 
and an eye-witness of some of them, — who, without any bias in 
favor of Christ, but rather some prejudice against him, — in this 
case too. without the knowledge of any such prophecy spoken or 
recorded, — gives a clear, definite statement of the outrageous mur- 
der of Zachariah, the son of Baruch or Barachiah, who, as he 
says, exactly^ was " slain in the middle of the temple," — that is 7 
half-way u between the temple-courts and the altar." He men- 
tions it too, as the last bloody murder of a righteous man, for pro- 
claiming the guilt of the wicked people ; and it therefore very ex- 
actly corresponds to the idea of the crime, which was "to fill up 
the measure of their iniquities." This event, thus proved to be 
the accomplishment of the prophecy of Jesus, and being shown 
moreover, to have been expressed in this peculiar form, with a 
reference to the recent occurrence of the murder alluded to, — is 
therefore a most valuable means of ascertaining the date of this 
gospel. Josephus dates the murder of Zachariah in the month of 
October, hi the thirteenth year of the reign of Nero, which corres- 
ponds to A. D. 66. The Apostle Matthew then, must have writ- 
ten after this time ; and it must be settled by other passages, how 
long after, he recorded the prophecy. 

The passage containing the prophecy of the the death of Zachariah, is in Matthew 
xxiii. 35; and that of "the abomination of desolation/' is in xxiv. 15. 

This interesting event is recorded by Josephus ; (Hist, of Jew. War, IV. v. 4 ;) and 
is one of the numerous instances which show the vast benefit which the Christian 
student of the New Testament may derive from the interesting and exact accounts of 
this Jewish historian. 

Another remarkable passage occurring in the prophecy of Je- 
sus to his disciples, respecting the ruin of the temple, recorded by 
Matthew immediately after the discourse to the multitude, just 
given, affords reasonable ground for ascertaining this point in 
the history of this gospel. When Jesus was solemnly fore- 
warning Peter, Andrew, James and John, of the utter ruin of the 
temple and city, he mentioned to them, at their request, certain 
signs, by which they might know the near approach of the com- 
ing judgment upon their country, and might thus escape the ruin 
to which the guilty were doomed. After many sad predictions of 
personal suffering, which must befall them in his service, he dis- 
tinctly announced to them a particular event, by the occurrence 
of which they might know that " the end was come," and might 
then, at the warning, flee from the danger to a place of safety. 



Matthew. 375 

l - When ye therefore shall see the abomination of desolation, spo- 
ken of by Daniel the prophet, (whoso readeth, let him under- 
stand,) then let them that are in Judea flee to the mountains." 
This parenthetical expression is evidently thrown in by Matthew, 
as a warning to his readers, of an event which it behoved them 
to notice, as the token of a danger which they must escape. The 
expression was entirely local and occasional, in its character, and 
could never have been made a part of the discourse by Jesus ; but 
the writer himself, directing his thoughts at that moment to the 
circumstances of the time, called the attention of his Christian 
countrymen to the warning of Jesus, as something which they 
must understand and act upon immediately. The inquiry then 
arises as to the meaning of the expression used by Jesus in his 
prophecy. " The abomination of desolation spoken of by Daniel 
the prophet, as standing in the holy place," unquestionably refers 
to the horrible violation of the sanctity of the holy places of the 
temple, by the banditti, styling themselves " Zealots for their 
country," who, taking possession of the sanctuary, called in the 
savage Idumeans, a heathen people, who not only profaned the 
temple, by their unholy presence, but defiled it with various ex- 
cesses, committing there a horrible massacre, and flooding its pave- 
ments with blood. This was the abomination to which both 
Daniel and Matthew referred, and which the latter had in mind 
when he mentioned it to his brethren to whom he wrote, as the 
sign which they in reading should understand, and upon the 
warning, flee to the mountains. These horrible polluting excess- 
es are the only events recorded in the history of the times, which 
can with such certainty and justice be pronounced the sad omens, 
to which Jesus and his evangelist referred. They are known 
to have occurred just before the death of Zachariah ; and there- 
fore also show this gospel to have been written after the date 
above fixed for that event. That it must have been written be- 
fore the last siege of Jerusalem, is furthermore manifest from the 
fact, that, in order to have the effect of a warning", it must have 
been sent to those in danger before the avenues of escape from 
danger were closed up, as they certainly were after Titus had 
fully encompassed Jerusalem with his armies, and after the fero- 
cious Jewish tyrants had made it certain death for any one to at- 
tempt to pass from Jerusalem to the Roman camp. To have an- 
swered the purpose for which it was intended, then, it must have 
been written at some period between the murder of Zachariah, 



376 MATTHEW. 

which was in the winter of the year 66, and the march of Titns 
from Galilee to Jerusalem, before which place he pitched his 
camp in the month of March, in A. D. 70. The precise point 
of time in these three years it is impossible to fix ; but it was, very 
probably, within a short time after the commission of the bloody 
crimes to which he refers ; perhaps in the beginning of the 
year 67. 

This view of these passages and the circumstances to which they refer, with al! 
the arguments which support the inferences drawn from them, may be found in 
Hug's Introduction, (Vol. II. §4.) He dates Matthew's gospel much later than most 
writers do; it being commonly supposed to have been written in the year 41, or in 
the year 61. Michaelis makes an attempt to reconcile these conjectures, by suppo- 
sing that it was written in Hebrew by Matthew, in A. D. 41, and translated in 61. 
But this is a mere guess, for which he does not pretend to assign a reason, and only 
says that he " can see no impropriety in supposing so." (Introd. III. iv. 1, 2.) 

Eichhorn suggests, that a reason for concluding that Matthew wrote his gospel a 
long time after the events which he relates, is implied in the expression used in chap, 
xxvii. 8, and xxviii. 15. " It is so called, to this day" — " It is commonly reported, to 
this day" — are expressions which, to any reader, convey the idea of many years in- 
tervening between the incidents and the time of their narration. In xxidi. 15, also^ 
the explanation which he gives of the custom of releasing a prisoner to the Jews on 
the feast-day, implies that the custom had been so long out of date, as to be probably 
forgotten by most of his readers, unless their memories were refreshed by this distinct 
explanation. 

IV. With what special design was this Gospel written? 
The circumstances of the times, as alluded to under the last 
inquiry, afford much light on the immediate object which Matthew 
had in view, in writing his gospel. It is true, that common read- 
ers of the Bible seldom think of it as anything else than a mere 
complete revelation made to all men, to lead them in the way of 
truth and salvation ; and few are prepared for an inquiry which 
shall take each portion of the scriptures by itself, and follow it 
through all its individual history, to the very source, — searching 
even into the immediate and temporary purpose of the inspired 
writers. Indeed, very many never think or know, that the his- 
torical portions of the New Testament were written with any oth- 
er design than to furnish to believers in Christ, through all ages, 
in all countries, a complete and distinct narrative of the events of 
the history of the foundation of their religion. But such a no- 
tion is perfectly discordant, not only with the reasonable results 
of an accurate examination of these writings, in all their parts, 
but with the uniform and decided testimony of all the Fathers of 
the Christian church, who may be safely taken as important and 
trusty witnesses of the notions prevalent in their times, about the 
scope and original design of the apostolic records. And though r 
as to the minute particulars of the history of the sacred canon> 



MATTHEW. 377 

their testimony is worth little, yet on the general question, wheth- 
er the apostles wrote with only a universal reference, or also 
with some special design connected with their own age and times, 
— the Fathers are as good authority as any writers that ever lived 
could be, on the opinions generally prevalent in their own day. In 
this particular case, however, very little reference can be made to 
external historical evidence, on the scope of Matthew's gospel ; be- 
cause very few notices indeed, are found, of its immediate object, 
among the works of the early writers. But a view of the circum- 
stances of the times, before referred to, will illustrate many things 
connected with the plan of the work, and show a peculiar force 
in many passages, that would otherwise be little appreciated. 

It appears on the unimpeachable testimony of the historians of 
those very times, of Josephus, who was a Jew, and of Tacitus and 
Suetonius, who were Romans, that both before and during the 
civil disturbances that ended in the destruction of Jerusalem, there 
was a general impression among the Jews, that their long-foretold 
Savior and national restorer, the Messiah-king, would soon appear ; 
and in the power of God, lead them on to a certain triumph over 
the seemingly invincible hosts, which even the boundless strength 
of Rome could send against them. In the expectation of the 
establishment of his glorious dominion, under which Israel should 
more than renew the honors and the power of David and Solo- 
mon, they, without fear of the appalling consequences of their 
temerity, entered upon the hopeless struggle for independence ; 
and according to the testimony of the above-mentioued historians, 
this prevalent notion did much, not only to incite them to the con- 
test, but also to sustain their resolution under the awful calami- 
ties which followed. The revolt thus fully begun, drew the whole 
nation together into a perfect union of feeling and interest ; all 
sharing in the popular fanaticism, became Jews again, whereby 
the Christian faith must have lost not a few of its professors. 

In these circumstances, and while such notions were prevalent, 
Matthew wrote his sketch of the life, teachings and miracles of 
Jesus ; and throughout the whole of his narrative makes constant 
references, where the connection can suggest, to such passages in 
the ancient holy books of the Hebrews, as were commonly sup- 
posed to describe the character and destiny of the Messiah. Tra- 
cing out in all these lineaments of ancient prophecy, the complete 
picture of the Restorer of Israel, he thus proved, by a comparison 
with the actual life of Jesus of Nazareth, that this was the per- 



17S 



MATTHEW. 



sod, whose course throughout, bad been predicted by the ancient 
prophets. In this way, be directly attacked the groundless hopes, 
which the fanatical rebels had excited, showing, as he did, that he 
for whom they looked as the Deliverer of Israel from bondage, 
had already come, and devoted his life to the disenthralment and 
salvation of his people from their sins. A distinct and satisfac- 
tory proof, carried on through a chain of historical evidence to 
this effect, would answer the purpose as fully as the written truth 
could do, of overthrowing the baseless imposition with which the 
impudent Zealots were beguiling the hopes of a credulous people, 
and leading them on, willingly deceived, to their utter ruin. In 
this book, containing a clear prediction of the destruction of the 
temple and Holy city, and of the whole religious and civil or- 
ganization of the Jewish nation, many would find the revealed 
truth, making them wise in the way of salvation, though, for a 
time, all efforts might seem in vain ; for the literal fulfilment of 
these solemn prophecies thus previously recorded, afterwards en- 
suing, the truth of the doctrines of a spiritual faith connected 
with these words of prediction, would be strongly impressed on 
those whom the consummation of their country's ruin should lead 
to a consideration of the errors in which they had been long led 
astray. These prophecies promised, too, that after all these 
schemes of worldly triumph for the name and race of Israel, 
had sadly terminated in the utter, irretrievable ruin of temple and 
city, — and when the cessation of festivals, and the taking away 
of the daily sacrifice, had left the Jew so few material and formal 
objects, to hang his faith and hopes on, — the wandering ones should 
turn to the pure spiritual truths, which would prove the best con- 
solation in their hopeless condition, and own, in vast numbers, the 
name and faith of him, whose sorrowful life and sad death were 
but too mournful a type of the coming woes of those who reject- 
ed him. Acknowledging the despised and crucified Nazarene as 
the true prophet and the long-foretold Messiah-king of afflicted 
Judah, the heart-broken, wandering sons of Israel, should join 
themselves to that oft-preached heavenly kingdom of virtue and 
truth, whose only entrance was through repentance and humility. 
Hence those numerous quotations from the Prophets, and from 
the Psalms, which are so abundant in Matthew, and by which, 
even a common reader is able to distinguish the peculiar, definite 
object that this writer has in view : — to show to the Jews, by a mi- 
nute detail, and a frequent comparison, that the actions of Jesus, 



MATTHEW". 379 

even in the most trilling incidents, corresponded with those passages 
of the ancient scriptures, which foreshadowed the Messiah, in 
this particular, his gospel is clearly distinguished from the others, 
which are for the most part deficient in this distinct unity of de- 
sign ; and where they refer to the grand object of representing Je- 
sus as the Messiah, — the Son of God,— they do it in other modes, 
which show that it was for more general purposes, and directed 
to the conversion of Gentiles rather than Jews. This is the case 
with John, who plainly makes this an essential object in his grand 
scheme ; but he combines the establishment of this great truth, 
with the more immediate occasions of subverting error and check- 
ing the progress of heretical opinions that aimed to detract from 
the divine prerogatives of Jesus. But John deals very little in 
those pointed and apt references to the testimony of the Hebrew 
scriptures, which so distinguish the writings of Matthew ; he ev- 
idently apprehends that those to whom he writes, will be less af- 
fected by appeals of that kind, than by proofs drawn from his ac- 
tions and discourses, and by the testimony of the great, the good, 
and the inspired, among those who saw and heard him. The work 
of Matthew was, on the other hand, plainly designed to bring to 
the faith of Jesus, those who were already fully and correctly in- 
structed in all that related to the divinely exalted character of the 
Messiah, and only needed proof that the person proposed to them 
as the Redeemer thus foretold, was in all particulars such as the 
unerring word of ancient prophecy required. Besides this object 
of converting the unbelieving Jews, its tendency was also mani- 
festly to strengthen and preserve those who were already profes- 
sors of the faith of Jesus ; and such, through all ages, has been 
its mighty scope, enlightening the nations with the clearest his- 
torical testimony ever borne to the whole life and actions of Jesus 
Christ, and rejoicing the millions of the faithful with the plainest 
record of the events that secured their salvation. 

Beyond the history of this gospel, the Fathers have hardly given 
the least account, either fanciful or real, of the succeeding life 
of Matthew. A fragment of tradition, of no very ancient date, 
specifies that he wrote his gospel when he was about to leave 
Palestine to go to other lands ; but neither the region nor the pe- 
riod is mentioned. Probably, at the time of the destruction of Je- 
rusalem, he followed the eastward course of the Jewish Christians ; 
but beyond this, even conjecture is lost. But where all historical 
grounds fail, monkish invention comes in with its tedious details 



380 MATTHEW. 

of fabulous nonsense : and in this case, as in others already allu- 
ded to, the writings of the monks of the fourteenth century, pro- 
duce long accounts of Matthew's labors in Ethiopia, where he is 
carried through a long series of fabled miracles, to the usual 
crowning glory of martyrdom. 

Ethiopia. — The earliest testimony on this point by any ecclesiastical history, is that 
of Socrates, (A. D. 425,) a Greek writer, who says only, that "when the apostles di- 
vided the heathen world, by lot, among themselves, — to Matthew was allotted Ethio- 
pia." This is commonly supposed to mean Nubia, or the country directly south of 
Egypt. The other Fathers of the fifth and following centuries, generally assign him 
the same country ; but it is quite uncertain what region is designated by this name. 
Ethiopia was a name applied by the Greeks to such a variety of regions, that it is 
quite in vain to define the particular one meant, without more information about the 
locality. 

But no such idle inventions can add anything to the interest 
which this apostolic writer has secured for himself by his noble 
Christian record. Not even an authentic history of miracles and 
martyrdom, could increase his enduring greatness. The tax- 
gatherer of Galilee has left a monument, on which cluster the 
combined honors of a literary and a holy fame,— a monument which 
insures him a wider, more lasting, and far higher glory, than the 
noblest achievments of the Grecian or the Latin writers, in his or 
any age could acquire for them. Not Herodotus nor Livy, — not 
Demosthenes nor Cicero,— not Homer nor Virgil,— can find a reader 
to whom the despised Matthew's simple work is not familiar ; nor 
did the highest hope or the proudest conception of the brilliant 
Horace, when exulting in the extent and durability of his fame, 
equal the boundless and eternal range of Matthew's honors. What 
would Horace have said, if he had been told that among the most 
despised of these superstitious and barbarian Jews, whom his own 
writings show to have been proverbially scorned, would arise one, 
within thirty or forty years, who, degraded by his avocation, even 
below his own countrymen's standard of respectability, would, 
by a simple record in humble prose, in an uncultivated and soon- 
forgotten dialect, " complete a monument more enduring than 
brass, — more lofty than the pyramids, — outlasting all the storms 
of revolution and of disaster, — all the course of ages and the flight 
of time V Yet such was the result of the unpretending effort of 
Matthew ; and it is not the least among the miracles of the religion 
whose foundation he commemorated and secured, that such a 
wonder in fame should have been achieved by it. 



THOMAS, DIDYMUS. 



The second name of this apostle is only the Greek translation 
of the former, which is the Syriac and Hebrew word for a "twin- 
brother," from which, therefore, one important circumstance may 
be safely inferred about the birth of Thomas, though unfortunate- 
ly, beyond this, antiquity bears no record whatever of his circum- 
stances previous to his admission into the apostolic fraternity. 

Nor is the authentic history of the apostles, much more satis- 
factory in respect to subsequent parts of Thomas's history. A 
very few brief but striking incidents, in which he was particular- 
ly engaged, are specified by John alone, who seems to have been 
disposed to supply, by his gospel, some characteristic account of 
several of the apostles, who had been noticed only by name, in the 
writings of Matthew, Mark, and Luke. Those in particular who 
receive this peculiar notice from him, are Andrew, Philip, Nathan- 
ael, Thomas, and John himself, — of all whom, as well as of Pe- 
ter, are thus learned some interesting matters, which, though ap- 
parently so trivial, do much towards giving a distinct impression 
of some of the leading traits in their characters. Among those 
facts thus preserved respecting Thomas, however, there is not one 
which gives any account of his parentage, rank in life, or previ- 
ous occupation ; nor do any other authentic sources bring any more 
facts to view on these points. The only conclusion presented 
even by conjecture, about his early history, is, that he was a pub- 
lican, like Matthew, — a notion which is found in some of the Fa- 
thers, — grounded, no doubt, altogether on the circumstance, that 
in all the gospel lists, he is paired with Matthew, as though there 
were some close connection between them. This is only a con- 
jecture, and one with even a more insignificant basis than most 
trifling speculations of this sort, and therefore deserving no regard 

49 



382 



THOMAS. 



whatever. Of the three incidents commemorated by John, two 
at least, are such as to present Thomas in a light by no means 
advantageous to his character as a ready and zealous believer in 
Jesus ; but on both these occasions he is represented as expressing 
opinions which prove him to have been very slow, not only in 
believing, but in comprehending spiritual truths. The first inci- 
dent is that mentioned by John in his account of the death of Laz- 
arus, where he describes the effect produced on the disciples by 
the news of the decease of their friend, and by the declaration 
made at the same time by Jesus, of his intention to go into Judea 
again, in spite of all the mortal dangers to which he was there 
exposed by the hatred of the Jews, who, enraged at his open dec- 
larations of his divine character and origin, were determined to 
punish with death, one who advanced claims which they pro- 
nounced absolutely blasphemous. This mortal hatred they had 
so openly expressed, that Jesus himself had thought it best to re- 
tire awhile from that region, and to avoid exposing himself to the 
fatal effects of such malice, until the other great duties of his 
earthly mission had been executed, so as to enable him, at last, to 
proceed to the bloody fulfilment of his mighty task, with the as- 
surance that he had finished the work which his Father gave him 
to do. 

But in spite of the pressing remonstrances of his disciples, Je- 
sus expressed his firm resolution to go, in the face of all mortal 
dangers, into Judea, there to complete the divine work which he 
had only begun. Thomas, finding his Master determined to rush 
into the danger, which, by once retreating from it for a time, he 
had acknowledged to be imminent, resolved not to let him go on, 
alone ; and turning to his fellow-disciples, said, " Let us also go ? 
that we may die with him." The proposal, thus decidedly made, 
shows a noble resolution in Thomas, to share all the fortunes of 
him to whom he had joined himself, and presents his character 
in a far more favorable light than the other passages in which his 
conduct is commemorated. While the rest were fearfully ex- 
postulating on the peril of the journey, he boldly proposed to his 
companions to follow unhesitatingly the footsteps of their Master, 
whithersoever he might go, — thus evincing a spirit of far more 
exalted devotion to the cause. 

The view here taken differs from the common interpretation of the passage, but it 
is the view which has seemed best supported by the whole tenor of the context, as 
may be decided by a reference to the passage in its place, (John xi. 16.) The evi- 



THOMAS. 3S3 

dence on both views can not be better presented than in Bloomfield's note on this 
passage, which is here extracted entire. 

" Here again the commentators differ in opinion. Some, as Grotius, Poole, Ham- 
mond, Whitby, and others, apply the ahrov to Lazarus, and take it as equivalent 
to ' let us go and die together with him.' But it is objected by Maldonati and 
Lampe, that Lazarus was already dead; and die like him they could not, because a 
violent death was the one in Thomas's contemplation. But these arguments seem 
inconclusive. It may with more justice be objected that the sense seems scarcely nat- 
ural. I prefer, with many ancient and modern interpreters, to refer the ahrov to Je- 
sus, ' let us go and die with him.' Maldonati and Doddridge regard the words as 
indicative of the most affectionate attachment to our Lord's person. But this is go- 
ing into the other extreme. It seems prudent to hold a middle course, with Calvin, 
Tarnovius, Lyser, Bucer, Lampe, and (as it should appear) Tittman. Thomas 
could not dismiss the idea of the imminent danger to which both Jesus and they 
would be exposed, by going into Judea; and, with characteristic bluntness, and some 
portion of ill humor, (though with substantial attachment to his Master's person,) he 
exclaims : " Since our Master will expose himself to such imminent, and, as it seems, 
unnecessary danger, let us accompany him, if it be only to share his fate." Thus 
there is no occasion, with Markland and Forster, apud Bowyer, to read the words 
interrogatively." (Bloomfield's Annotations, vol. III. p. 426, 427.) 

In John's minute account of the parting discourses of Christ 
at the Last Supper, it is mentioned, that Jesus after speaking of 
his departure, as very near, in order to comfort his disciples, told 
them, he was going "to prepare a place for them, in his Father's 
house, where were many mansions," Assuring them of his 
speedy return to bring them to these mansions of rest, he said to 
them, " Whither I go ye know, and the way ye know." But so 
lost, for the time, were all these words of instruction and counsel, 
that not one of his followers seems to have rightly apprehended 
the force of this remark • and Thomas was probably only express- 
ing the general doubt, when he replied to Jesus, in much perplex- 
ity at the language, " Lord, we know not whither thou goest ; and 
how can we know the way?" Jesus replied, "I am the way, the 
truth, and the life : no man comes to the Father but by me." But 
equally vain was this new illustration of the truth. The remark 
which Philip next made, begging that they might have their cu- 
riosity gratified by a sight of the Father, shows how idly they 
were all still dreaming of a worldly, tangible and visible king- 
dom, and how uniformly they perverted all the plain declara- 
tions of Jesus, to a correspondence with their own pre-conceiv- 
ed, deep-rooted notions. Nor was this miserable error removed, 
till the descent of that Spirit of Truth, which their long-suffering 
and ever watchful Lord invoked, to teach their still darkened souls 
the things which they would not now see, and to bring to their 
remembrance all which they now so little heeded. 

The remaining incident respecting this apostle, which is record- 
ed by John, further illustrates the state of mind in which each 



384 THOMAS. 

new revelation of the divine power and character of Jesus, found 
his disciples. None of them expected his resurrection: — none 
would really believe it, until they had seen him with their own 
eyes. Thomas therefore showed no remarkable skepticism, 
when, hearing from the others, that one evening, when he was 
not present, Jesus had actually appeared alive among them, he 
declared his absolute unbelief, — protesting, that far from suffering 
himself to be as lightly deceived as they had been, he would give 
no credit to any evidence but that of the most unquestionable 
character, — that of seeing and touching those bloody marks which 
would characterize, beyond all possibility of mistake, the crucified 
body of Jesus. " Except I shall see in his hands the print of the 
nails, and put my finger into the print of the nails, and thrust my 
hand into his side, I will not believe." After eight days, the dis- 
ciples were again assembled, and on this occasion Thomas was 
with them. While they were sitting, as usual, with doors closed 
for fear of the Jews, Jesus again, in the same sudden and mys- 
terious manner as before, appeared all at once in the midst, with 
his solemn salutation, "Peace be with you!" Turning at once 
to the unbelieving disciple, whose amazed eyes now for the first 
time fell on the body of his risen Lord, he said to him, " Thomas ! 
Put thy finger here, and see my hands; and put thy hand 
here, and thrust it into my side ; and be not faithless, but believ- 
ing." The stubbornly skeptical disciple was melted at the sight 
of these mournful tokens of his Redeemer's dying agonies, and 
in a burst of new exalted devotion, he exclaimed, " My Lord ! 
and my God !" The pierced hands and side showed beyond all 
question the body of his " Lord ;" and the spirit that could, of it- 
self, from such a death, return to perfect life, could be nothing 
else than " God." The reply of Jesus to this expression of faith 
and devotion, contained a deep reproach to this slow-believing dis- 
ciple, who would take no evidence whatever of the accomplish- 
ment of his Master's dying words, except the sight of every tan- 
gible thing that could identify his person, " Thomas ! because 
thou hast seen me. thou hast believed : blessed are they, who 
though not seeing, yet believe." 

" Put thy finger here" — This phrase seems to express the graphic force of the ori- 
ginal, much more justly than the common translation. The adverb of place, ZSs, gives 
the idea of the very place where the wounds had been made, and brings to the read- 
er's mind the attitude and gesture of Jesus, with great distinctness. The adverb "here," 
refers to the print of the nails ; and Jesus holds out his hand to Thomas, as he says 
these words, telling him to put his finger into the wound. 

Not seeing, yet believe. — This is the form of expression best justified by the indef- 



THOMAS. 385 

initeness of the Greek aorists, whose very name implies this unlimitedness in respect 
to time. The limitation to the past, implied in the common translation, is by no means 
required by the original; but it is left so vague, that the action may be referred to the 
present and the future also. 

Beyond this, the writings of the New Testament give not the 
least account of Thomas ; and his subsequent history can only be 
uncertainly traced in the dim and dark stories of tradition, or in 
the contradictory records of the Fathers. Different accounts 
state that he preached the gospel in Parthia, — Media, — Persia, — 
Ethiopia, — and at last, India. A great range of territories is thus 
spread out before the investigator, but the traces of the apostle's 
course and labors are both few and doubtful. Those of the Fa- 
thers who mention his journeys into these countries, give no par- 
ticulars whatever of his labors ; and all that is now believed re- 
specting these things, is derived from other, and perhaps still more 
uncertain sources. 

India is constantly asserted by the Fathers, from the beginning 
of the third century, to have very early received the gospel, and 
this apostle is named as the person through whom this evangeli- 
zation was effected ; but this evidence alone would be entitled to 
very little consideration, except from the circumstance, that from 
an early period, to this day, there has existed in India, a large 
body of Christians, who give themselves the name of "St. Thom- 
as's Christians," of whose antiquity proofs are found in the testi- 
mony, both of very ancient and very modern travelers. They 
still retain many traditions of the person whom they claim as 
their founder, — of his place of landing, — the towns he visited, — 
the churches he planted, — his places of residence and his retreats 
for private devotion,— the very spot of his martyrdom, and his 
grave. A tradition, however, floating down unwritten for fifteen 
centuries, can not be received as very good evidence ; and the 
more minute such stories are in particulars, the more suspicious they 
are in their character for truth. But in respect to the substance of 
this, it may well be said, that it is by no means improbable, and is 
in the highest degree consistent with the views, already taken, in 
former parts of this work, of the eastward course of the apostles 
after the destruction of Jerusalem. The great body of them, ta- 
king refuge at Babylon, within the limits of the great Parthian 
empire, the more adventurous might follow the commercial routes 
still farther eastward, to the mild and generally peaceful nations 
of distant India, whose character for civilization and partial re- 
finement was such as to present many facilities for the introduc- 



386 



THOMAS. 



tion and wide diffusion of the gospel among them. These views, 
in connection with the great amount of respectable evidence from 
various other sources, make the whole outline of the story of 
Thomas's labors in India very possible, and even highly pro- 
bable. 

The earliest evidence among the Fathers that has ever been quoted on this point, 
is that of Pantaenus, of Alexandria, whose visit to what was then called India, has 
been mentioned above; (page 363;) but as has there been observed, the investiga- 
tions of Michaelis and others, have made it probable that Arabia-Felix was the coun- 
try there intended by that name. The first distinct mention made of any eastward 
movement of Thomas, that can be found, is by Origen, who is quoted by Eusebius, 
(Hist. Ecc, III. 1,) as testifying, that when the apostles separated to go into all the 
world, and preach the gospel, Parthia was assigned to Thomas ; and Origen is repre- 
sented as appealing to the common tradition, for the proof of this particular fact. Je- 
rome speaks of Thomas, as preaching the gospel in Media and Persia. In another 
passage he specifies India, as his field ; and in this he is followed by most of the later 
writers, — Ambrose, Nicephorus, Baronius, Natalis, &c. Chrysostom (orat. in xii. 
apost.) says that Thomas preached the gospel in Ethiopia. As the geography of all 
these good Fathers seems to have been somewhat confused, all these accounts may 
be considered very consistent with each other. Media and Persia were both in the 
Parthian Empire ; and all very distant countries, east and south, were, by the Greeks, 
vaguely denominated India and Ethiopia ; just as as all the northern unknown re- 
gions were generally called Scythia. 

Natalis Alexander (Hist. Ecc. IV. p. 32,) sums up all these accounts by saying, that 
Thomas preached the gospel to the Parthians, Medes, Persians, Brachmans, Indians, 
and the other neighboring nations, subject to the empire of the Parthians. He quotes 
as his authorities, besides the above-mentioned Fathers, Sophronius, (A. D. 390,) 
Gregory Nazianzen, (A. D. 370,) Ambrose, (370,) Gaudentius, (A. D. 387.) The 
author of the imperfect work on Matthew, (A. D. 560,) says, that Thomas found in . 
his travels, the three Magi, who adored the infant Jesus, and having baptized them, 
associated them with him, in his apostolic labors. Theodoret, (A.D. 423,) Gaudentius, 
Asterius, (A. D. 320,) and others, declare Thomas to have died by martyrdom. So- 
phronius (390,) testifies that Thomas died at Calamina, in India. " This Calamina is 
now called Malipur, and in commemoration of a tradition, preserved, as we are told, 
on the spot, to this effect, the Portuguese, when they set up their dominion in India, 
gave it the name of the city of St. Thomas. The story reported by the Portuguese 
travelers and historians is, that there w~as a tradition current among the people of the 
place, that Thomas was there martyred, by being thrust through w 7 ith a lance. (Nata- 
lis Alexander, Hist. Ecc, vol. IV. pp. 32,33.) 

A new T weight of testimony has been added to all this, by the statements of Dr. 
Claudius Buchanan, who. in modern times, has traced out all these traditions on the 
spot referred to, and has given a very full account of the " Christians of St. Thomas," 
in his " Christian researches in India." 

On this evidence, may be founded a rational belief, though not 
an absolute certainty, that Thomas actually did preach the gospel 
in distant eastern countries, and there met with such success as 
to leave the lasting tokens of his labors, to preserve through a 
course of ages, in united glory, his own name and that of his 
Master. In obedience to His last earthly command, he went to 
teach " nations unknown to Caesar," proclaiming to them the mes- 
sage of divine love, — solitary, and unsupported, save by the presence 
of Him, who had promised to " be with him always, even to the 

END OF THE WORLD." 



JAMES, THE LITTLE; 

THE SON OF ALPHEUS. 



HIS NAME. 

It will be observed, no doubt, by all readers, that the most im- 
portant inquiry suggested in the outset of the most of these apos- 
tolic biographies, is about the name and personal identification of 
the individual subject of each life. This difficulty is connected 
with peculiarities of those ancient times and half-refined nations, 
that may not, perhaps, be very readily appreciated by those who 
have been accustomed only to the definite nomenclature of fami- 
lies and individuals, which is universally adopted among civilized 
nations at the present day. With all the refined nations of Euro- 
pean race, the last part of a person's name marks his family, and 
is supposed to have been borne by his father, and by his ances- 
tors, from the time when family names were first adopted. The 
former part of his name, with equal definiteness, marks the indi- 
vidual ; and generally remains fixed from the time when he first 
received his name. Whenever any change takes place in any 
part of his appellation, it is generally done in such a formal and 
permanent mode, as never to make any occasion for confusion in 
respect to the individual, among those concerned with him. But 
no such decisive limitation of names to persons, prevailed among 
even the most refined nations of the apostolic age. The name 
given to a child at birth, indeed, was very uniformly retained 
through life ; but as to the other parts of his appellation, it was 
taken, according to circumstances, chance or caprice, from the 
common name of his father, — from some personal peculiarity, — • 
from his business, — from his general character, — or from some par- 
ticular incident in his life. The name thus acquired, to distin- 
guish him others bearing his former name, was used either in 
connection with that, or without ; and sometimes two or more 
such distinctive appellations belonged to the same man, all or any 



JAMES, THE LITTLE. 



of which were used together with the former, or separate from it, 
without any definite rule of application. To those acquainted 
with the individual so variously named, and contemporary with 
him, no confusion was made by this multiplicity of words ; and 
when anything was recorded respecting him, it was done with 
the perfect assurance, that ail who then knew him, would find no 
difficulty in respect to his personal identity, however he might be 
mentioned. But in later ages, when the personal knowledge of 
all these individual distinctions has been entirely lost, great diffi- 
culties necessarily arise on these points, — difficulties which, after 
tasking historical and philological criticism to the highest efforts, 
in order to settle the facts, are, for the most part, left in absolute 
uncertainty. Thus, in respect to the twelve apostles, it will be no- 
ticed, that this confusion of names throws great doubt over many 
important questions. Among some of them, too, these difficulties 
are partly owing to other causes. Their names were originally 
given to them, in the peculiar language of Palestine : and in the 
extension of their labors and fame, to people of different languages, 
of a very opposite character, their names were forced to undergo 
new distortions, by being variously translated, or changed in ter- 
mination ; and many of the original Hebrew sounds, in conse- 
quence of being altogether unpronounceable by Greeks and Ro- 
mans, were variously exchanged for softer and smoother ones, 
which, in their dissimilar forms, would lose almost all perceptible 
traces of identity with each other, or with the original word. 

These difficulties are in no case quite so prominent and seri- 
ous as in regard to the apostle who is the subject of this particu- 
lar biography. Bearing the same name with the elder son of 
Zebedee, he was of course necessarily designated by some addi- 
tional title, to distinguish him from the other great apostle James. 
This title was not always the same, nor was it uniform in its prin- 
ciple of selection. On all the apostolic lists, he is designated by 
a reference to the name of his father, as is the first James. As 
the person first mentioned by this name is called James, the son 
of Zebedee, the second is called James, the son of Alpheus : nor 
is there, in the enumeration of the apostles by Matthew, Mark or 
Luke, any reference to another distinctive appellation of this 
James. But in one passage of Mark's account of the crucifixion, 
it is mentioned, that among the women present, was Mary the 
mother of James the Little, and of Joses. In what sense this 
word little is applied, — whether of age, size, or dignity, — it is ut- 



JAMES, THE LITTLE. . 389 



terly impossible to ascertain at this day; for the original word is 
known to have been applied to persons, in every one of these 
senses, even in the New Testament. But, however this may be, 
a serious question arises, whether this James the Little was actu- 
ally the same person as the James, called, on the apostolic lists, 
the son of Alpheus. In the corresponding- passage in John's gos- 
pel, this same Mary is called Mary the wife of Clopas ; and by 
Matthew and Mark, the same James is mentioned as the brother 
of Joses, Juda, and Simon. In the apostolic lists given by Luke, 
both in his gospel, and in the Acts of the Apostles, Juda is also 
called " the brother of James ;" and in his brief general epistle, 
the same apostle calls himself " the brother of James." In the 
beginning of the epistle to the Galatians, Paul, describing his own 
reception at Jerusalem, calls him " James, the brother of our Lord;" 
and by Matthew and Mark, he, with his brothers, Joses, Juda and 
Simon, is also called the brother of Jesus. From all these seem- 
ingly opposite and irreconcilable statements, arise three inquiries, 
which can, it is believed, be so answered, as to attribute to the 
subject of this article every one of the circumstances connected 
with James, in these different stories. 

James, the Little, — This adjective is here applied to him in the positive degree, be- 
cause it is so in the original Greek, [iaKO)6os 'o fjuxpos, Mark xv. 40,] and this express- 
ion too, is in accordance with English forms of expression. The comparative form, 
"James, the Less" seems to have originated in the Latin Vulgate, "Jacobus Minor," 
which may be well enough in that language 5 but in English, there is no reason why 
the original word should not be literally and faithfully expressed. The Greek ori- 
ginal of Mark, calls him " James, the Little, " which implies simply, that he was a Ut- 
ile man ; whether little in size, or age, or dignity, every one is left to guess for him- 
self; — but it is more accordant with usage, in respect to such nicknames, in those 
times, to suppose that he was a short man, and was thus named to distinguish him 
from the son of Zebedee, who was probably taller. The term thus applied by Mark, 
would be understood by all to whom he wrote, and implied no disparagement to his 
mental eminence. But the term applied, in the sense of a smaller dignity, is so slight- 
ing to the character of James, who to the last day of his life, maintained, according to 
both Christian and Jewish history, the most exalted fame for religion and intellectual 
worth, — that it must have struck all who heard it thus used, as a term altogether un- 
just to his true eminence. His weight of character in the councils of the apostles, soon 
after the ascension, and the manner in which he is alluded to in the accounts of his 
death, make it very improbable that he was younger than the other James. 

First : Was James the son of Alpheus the same person as 
James the son of Clopas ? The main argument for the identifi- 
cation of these names, rests upon the similarity of the consonants 
in the original Hebrew word which represents them both, and 
which, according to the fancy of a writer, might be represented 
in Greek, either by the letters of Alpheus or of Clopas. This 
proof, of course, can be folly appreciated only by those who are 
familiar with the power of the letters of the oriental languages, 

m 



390 JAMES, THE LITTLE 

and know the variety of modes in which they are frequently 
given in the Greek, and other European languages. The con- 
vertibility of certain harsh sounds of the dialects of south- 
western Asia, into either hard consonants, or smooth vowel utter- 
ances, is sufficiently well-known to Biblical scholars, to make the 
change here supposed appear perfectly probable and natural to 
them. It will be observed by common readers, that all the con- 
sonants in the two words are exactly the same, except that Clop as 
has a hard C, or K, in the beginning, and that Alpheus has the 
letter P aspirated by an H, following it. Now, both of these differ- 
ences can, by a reference to the original Hebrew word, be shown 
to be only the results of the different modes of expressing the 
same Hebrew letters ; and the words thus expressed may, by the 
established rules of etymology, be referred to the same oriental 
root. These two names, then, Alpheus and CYopas, may be safe- 
ly assigned to the same person ; and Mary the wife of Clopas and 
the mother of James the Little, and of Joses, was, no doubt, the 
mother of him who is called " James the son of Alpheus." 

Clopas and Alpheus. — It should be noticed,, that in the eonrmon translation of the 
New Testament, the former of these two words is very unjustifiably expressed by 
Cleophas, whereas the original (John six. 25,) is simply kAwttos. {Clopas.) This is a 
totally different name from Clcopas, (Luke xxiv. 18, Kaeok-oj,) which is probably 
Greek in its origin, and abridged from Cleopater, (KXeonarpos,) just as Aniipas from 
Antipater, and many other similar instances, in which the Hellenizing Jews abridged 
the terminations of Greek and Roman words, to suit the genius of the Hebrew tongue. 
But Clopas, being very differently spelt in the Greek, must belraced to another source ; 
and the circumstances which connect it with the name Alp/uus, suggesting that, like 
that, it might have a Hebrew origin, directs the inquirer to the original form of that 
word. The Hebrew ^sSn (hhalpha) may be taken as the word from which both 
are derived ; each being such an expression of the original, as the different writer:-; 
might choose for its fair representation. The first letter in the word, n, (AAdtik,') has 
in Hebrew two entirely distinct sounds ; one a strong guttural H, and the other a 
deeply aspirated KH. These are represented in Arabic by two differ ent letters, but 
in Hebrew, a single character is used to designate both ; consequent!}' the names 
which contain this letter, may be represented in Greek and other languages, by two 
different letters, according as they were pronounced ; and where the original word 
which contained it, was sounded differently, by different persons, under different cir- 
cumstances, varying its pronunciation with the times and the fashion, even in the 
same word, it would be differently expressed in Greek. Any person familiar with 
she peculiar changes made in those Old Testament names which are quoted in the New, 
will easily apprehend the possibility of such a variation in this. Thus, in Stephen's 
speech, (Acts vii.) Haran is called Charran ; and other changes of the same sort oc- 
cur in the same chapter. The name Anna, (Luke ii. 36,) is the same with Hannah^ 
(1 Samuel i. 2,) which in the Hebrew has this same strongly aspirated H, that begins 
the word in question, — and the same too, which in Acts vii. 2, 4, is changed into the 
strong Greek Ch ; while all its harshness is lost, and the whole aspiration removed, in 
Anna,. These instances, taken out of many similar ones, may justify to common 
readers, the seemingly great change of letters in the beginning of Alpheus and Clo 
pas. The other changes of vowels are of no account., since in the oriental languages 
particularly, these are not fixed parts of the word, but mere modes of uttering the con- 
sonants, and vary throughout the verbs and nouns, in almost every in flexion these 
parts of speech undergo. The-e therefore, are not considered radical or essential 



JAMES, THE LITTLE, 391 

parts of the word, and are never taken into consideration in tracing a word from one 
language to another, — the consonants being the fixed parts on which etymology de- 
pends. The change also from the aspirate JPh, to the smooth mute P, is also so very 
common in the oriental languages, and even in the Greek, that it need not be regard- 
ed in identifying the word. 

Taking into consideration then, the striking and perfect affinities of the two words, 
and adding to these the great body of presumptive proofs, drawn from the other cir- 
cumstances that show or suggest the identity of persons,— and noticing moreover, the 
circumstance, that while Matthew, Mark, and Luke speak of Alpheus, they never 
speak of Clopas,— and that John, who alone uses the name Clopas, never mentions Al- 
pheus, — it seems very reasonable to adopt, the conclusion, that the last evangelist 
means the same person as the former. 

Second : Was James the son of Alpheus the same person as 
"James, the brother of our Lord?" An affirmative answer to 
this question seems to be required by the fact, that Mary the wife 
of Clopas is named as the mother of James and Joses ; and else- 
where, James and Joses, and Juda and Simon, are called the 
brothers of Jesus. It should be understood that the word u broth- 
er" is used in the scriptures often, to imply a relationship much 
less close than that of the children of the same father and mother. 
" Cousins" are called " brothers" in more cases than one, and the 
oriental mode of maintaining family relationship closely through 
several generations, made it very common to consider those who 
were the children of brothers, as being themselves brothers ; 
and to those familiar with this extension of the term, it would 
not necessarily imply anything more. In the case alluded to, all 
those to whom the narratives and other statements containing the 
expression, " James the brother of our Lord," were first addressed, 
being well acquainted with the precise nature of this relationship, 
would find no difficulty whatever in such a use of words. The 
nature of his relationship to Jesus seems to have been that of 
cousin, whether by the father's side or mother's, is very doubtful. 
By John indeed, Mary the wife of Clopas is called the sister of 
the mother of Jesus ; but it will seem reasonable enough to sup- 
pose, — since two sisters, daughters of the same parents, could hard- 
ly bear the same name, — that Mary the mother of James, must 
have been only the sister-in-law of the mother of Jesus, either 
the wife of her brother, or the sister of her husband ; or, in per- 
fect conformity with this use of the term " sister," she may have 
been only a cousin or some such relation. 

The third question which has been originated from these va- 
rious statements, — whether James, the brother of Jesus and the 
author of the epistle, was an apostle, — must, of course, be an- 
swered in the affirmative, if the two former points have been cor- 
rectly settled. 



392 JAMES, THE LITTLE. 

All the opinions on these points are fully given and discussed by Michaelis, in his 
Introduction to the epistle of James. He states five different suppositions which have 
been advanced respecting the relationship borne to Jesus by those who are in the New- 
Testament called his brothers. 1. That they were the sons of Joseph, by a former 
wife. 2. That they were the sons of Joseph, by Mary the mother of Jesus. 3. That 
they were the sons of Joseph by the widow of a brother, to whom he was obliged to 
raise up children according to the laws of Moses. 4. That this deceased brother of 
Joseph, to whom the laws required him to raise up issue, was Alpheus. 5. That 
they were brothers of Christ, not in the strict sense of the word, but in a more lax 
sense, namely, in that of cousin, or relation in general, agreeably to the usage of this 
word in the Hebrew language. (Gen. xiv. 16 : xiii. 8 : xxix. 12, 15: 2 Sam. xix. 13 : 
Num. viii. 26 : xvi. 10 : Neh. iii. 1.) This opinion which has been here adopted, 
was first advanced by Jerome, and has been very generally received since his time ; 
though the first of the five was supported by the most ancient of the Fathers. Michae- 
lis very clearly refutes all, except the first and the fifth, between which he does nofc 
decide ; mentioning, however, that though he had been early taught to respect the 
latter, as the rig-ht one, he had since become more favorable to the first. 

The earliest statement made concerning these relations of Je- 
sus, is by John, who, in giving an account of the visit made by 
Jesus to Jerusalem, at the feast of the tabernacles, mentions, that 
the brethren of Jesus did not believe in him, but, in a rather 
sneering tone, urged him to go up to the feast, and display himself, 
that the disciples who had formerly there followed him, might have 
an opportunity to confirm their faith by the sight of some new 
miracle done by him. Speaking to him in a very decidedly com- 
manding tone, they said, " Depart hence, and go into Judea, that 
thy disciples also may see the works that thou doest. For there 
is no man that does anything in secret, while he himself seeks to 
be widely known ; if thou do these things, show thyself to the 
world." The whole tenor of this speech shows a spirit certainly 
very far from a just appreciation of the character of their divine 
brother ; and the base, sordid motives, which they impute to him 
as ruling principles of action, were little less than insults to the 
pure, high spirit, which lifted him so far above their comprehen- 
sion. The reply which Jesus made to their taunting address, 
contained a decided rebuke of their presumption in thus attack- 
ing his motives. " My time is not yet come, but yours is always 
ready. The world can not hate you, but me it hates, because I 
testify of it that its works are evil. Go ye up to this feast ; but 
I am not going yet ; for my time is not yet fully come." They 
might always go where mere inclination directed them, nor was 
there any occasion to refer to any higher object. But a mighty 
scheme was connected with his movements, to which he directed 
every action. In his great work, he had already exposed himself 
to the hatred of the wicked, and his movements were now checked 
by a regard to the proper time for exposing himself to it ; and 



JAMES, THE LITTLE. 



393 



when that time should come, he would unhesitatingly meet the 
results. 

By a passage in Mark's gospel, it appears also, that at the first 
beginning of the ministry of Jesus, his relations generally were 
so little prepared for a full revelation of the character and desti- 
ny of him with whom they had long lived so familiarly as a 
brother and an intimate, that they viewed with the most disagree- 
able surprise and astonishment, his remarkable proceedings, in go- 
ing from place to place with his disciples, — neglecting the busi- 
ness to which he had been educated, and deserting his family 
friends, — preaching to vast throngs of wondering people, and per- 
for minar strange works of kindness to those who seemed to have 
no sort of claim on his attention. Distressed at these strange ac- 
tions, they could form no conclusion about his conduct that seem- 
ed so reasonable and charitable,, as that he was beside himself, 
and needed to be confined, to prevent him from doing mischief to 
himself and others, by his seemingly extravagant and distracted con- 
duct. "And they came out to lay hold on him, for they said ' He 
is beside himself.' " With this very purpose, as it seems, his 
brothers and family relations had come to urge and persuade him 
back to their home if possible, and stood without, utterly unable to 
get near him, on account of the throngs of hearers and beholders 
that had beset him. They were therefore obliged to send him 
word, begging him to stop his discourse and come out to them, be- 
cause they wanted to see him. The request was therefore pass- 
ed along from mouth to mouth, in the crowd, till at last those who 
sat next to Jesus communicated the message to him, — "Behold 
thy mother and thy brethren stand without, desiring to speak with 
thee." Jesus fully apprehending the nature of the business on which 
their ill-discerning regard had brought them thither, only suspend- 
ed the train of his discourse to make such a remark as would 
impress all with the just idea of the value which he set upon earth- 
ly affections, which were liable to operate as hindrances to him in 
the great work to which he had been devoted ; and to convince 
them how much higher and stronger was the place in his affec- 
tions held by those who had joined themselves to him for life and 
for death, to promote the cause of God, and to do with him the 
will of his Father in heaven,— in the striking language of inqui- 
ry, he said, " Who is my mother or my brethren T Then look- 
ing with an expression of deep affection around, on those who sat 
near him, he said, " Behold my mother and my brethren ! For 



394 



JAMES. THE LITTLE. 



whosoever shall do the will of God, the same is my brother, and 
my sister and mother." It appears by this remark, as well as 
by another passage, that he had not only brothers, but sisters, who 
lived at Nazareth at that time, and were well known as his rela- 
tions. No mention however is any where made of his father : so 
that it would appear that Joseph was now dead. 

This remarkable faithlessness on the part of the brothers of Je- 
sus, may be thought to present an insuperable difficulty in the 
way of the supposition that any of them could have been num- 
bered with the apostles. But great as seems to have been their er- 
ror, it hardly exceeded many that were made by his most select 
followers, even to the time of his ascension. All the apostles may 
be considered to have been in a great measure unbelievers, until 
the descent of the Holy Spirit, — for until that time, on no occasion 
did one of them manifest a true faith in the words of Jesus. Times 
almost without number, did he declare to them that he should rise 
from the dead ; but notwithstanding this assertion was so often 
made to them in the most distinct and solemn manner, not one of 
them put the slightest confidence in his words, or believed that he 
would ever appear to them again after his crucifixion. Not even 
the story of his resurrection, repeatedly and solemnly attested 
by the women and others, could overcome their faithlessness ; so 
that when the risen Lord, whose words they had so little heeded, 
came into their presence, moved with a just and holy anger, " he 
upbraided them with their unbelief and hardness of heart, because 
they believed not those who had seen him after he was risen." So 
that his brothers at this early period, can not be considered any 
worse off than the rest of those who knew and loved him best ; 
and if any arc disposed to oppose the view that his brethren were 
apostles, by quoting the words of John, that " neither did his 
brethren believe in him," a triumphant retort may be found in the 

fact, that NEITHER DID HIS APOSTLES BELIEVE IN HIM. 

There were, however, other " brothers" of Jesus, besides those 
who were apostles. By Matthew and Mark is also mentioned 
Joses, who is nowhere mentioned as an apostle ; and there may 
have been others still, whose names are not given ; for, in the 
account given, in the first chapter of Acts, it is recorded that, 
besides all the eleven apostles, there were also assembled in the 
upper room, Mary the mother of Jesus, and his brethren. It is 
very likely, that Jesus may have had several other cousins, who 
followed his fortunes, though they were not considered by him, 



JAMES, THE LITTLE. 395 

qualified to rank among his chosen apostles. But a very promi- 
nent objection to the notion that they were the children of his 
mother, with whom they are mentioned in such close connec- 
tion, — is, that when Jesus was on the cross, he commended her 
to the care of John, his beloved disciple, as though she were des- 
titute of any immediate natural protector ; and certainly, if she 
had at that time several sons living, who were full-grown, she could 
not have needed to be intrusted thus to the kindness of one who 
claimed no relationship whatever to her ; but would, of course, 
have been secure of a home, and a comfortable support, so long 
as her sons could have worked for her. These also may have 
been those brethren who did not believe in him, and who consid- 
ered him beside himself, though there seems no good reason to 
except any of those who are mentioned by Matthew and Mark, as 
his brethren, — James, Juda, Joses and Simon. 

Beyond these allusions to him, in connection with others, the 
gospels take no notice whatever of this apostle ; and it is only in 
the Acts of the Apostles, and some of the epistles of Paul, that 
he is mentioned with any great distinctness. In all those passa- 
ges in the apostolic writings where he is referred to, he is pre- 
sented as a person of high standing and great importance, and his 
opinions are given in such a manner as to convey the impression 
that they had great weight in the regulation of the apostolic do- 
ings. This is particularly evident in the only passage of the 
Acts of the Apostles where his words are given, which is in the 
account of the consultation at Jerusalem about the great ques- 
tion of communion between the circumcised and uncircumcised. 
On this occasion, James is mentioned in such a way as to make 
it evident that he was considered the most prominent among 
those who were zealous for the preservation of the Mosaic forms, 
and to have been by all such, regarded in the light of a leader, 
since his decision seems to have been esteemed by them as a sort 
of law ; and the perfect acquiescence of even the most trouble- 
some in the course which he recommended, is a proof of his pre- 
dominant influence. The tone and style of the address itself, 
also imply that the speaker thought he had good reason to be- 
lieve that others were looking to him in particular, for the decision 
which should regulate their opinions on this doubtful question, 
After Simon Peter, as the great chief of the apostles, had first ex- 
pressed his opinion on the question under discussion, and had 
referred to his own inspired divine revelations of the will of God 



396 



JAMES, THE LITTLE. 



in respect to the Gentiles, Paul and Barnabas next gave a full ac- 
count of their operations, and of the signs and wonders with 
which God had followed their labors. 

After the full exposition made by Paul and Barnabas, of all 
their conduct, James arose to make his reply in behalf of the close 
adherents of Mosaic forms, and said, " Men and brethren ! listen 
to me. Simeon has set forth in what manner God did first con- 
descend to take from the heathen a people for his name. And 
with this, all the words of the prophets harmonize, as it is written, 
'After these things I will turn back, and will rebuild the fallen 
tabernacle of David ; I will both rebuild its ruins and erect it 
again, in order that the rest of mankind may seek out 
the Lord, together with all the heathen who are called by my 
name, saith the Lord who made all things.' ' Well known to God are 
all his works from eternity.' Sol think that we ought not to make 
trouble for those who have turned from the heathen, to God ; but 
that we should direct them to refrain from things that have been 
offered unto idols, and from fornication, and from what has been 
strangled, and from blood. For Moses has, from ancient genera- 
tions, in these cities, those who make him known, — his law being 
read every sabbath day." This opinion, formed and delivered in a 
truly Christian spirit of compromise, seems to have had the effect 
of a permanent decision ; and the great leader of the rigid Judai- 
zers, having thus renounced all opposition to the adoption of the 
converted heathen into full and open Christian communion, though 
without the seals of the Mosaic covenant, — all those who had ori- 
ginated this vexatious question, ceased their attempts to distract 
the harmony of the apostles ; and the united opinions of the great 
apostolic chief, who had first opened the gates of Christ's king- 
dom to the heathen, and of the eminent defender of Mosaic forms, 
so silenced all discussion, that thenceforth these opinions, thus fully 
expressed, became the common law of the Christian churches, 
throughout the world, in all ages. 

This address of James (Acts xv. 13 — 21.) may justly be pronounced the most 
obscure passage of all that can be found in the New Testament, of equal length, — 
almost every verse in it containing some point, which has been made the subject of 
some dispute. Schoettgen (quoted by Bloomfield,) thus analyzes this discourse :— 
"It consists of three parts; — the Exordium, (verse 13,) in which the speaker uses a 
form of expression calculated to secure the good- will of his auditors; — the Statement, 
(verses 16-18,) containing also a confirmation of it from the prophets, and the reason; 
— the Proposition, (verses 19-20.) that the Gentiles are not to be compelled to Judaism, 
but are only to abstain from certain things particularly ofiensive to the spirit of the 
Mosaic institutions." 

Simeon, (verse 14.) This peculiar form of Peter's first name, has led some to sup- 
pose that he could not be the person meant, since he is mentioned in all other narra- 



JAMES, THE LITTLE. 



397 



tires by the name of Simon. Wolf imagines that Simon Zelotes must have been 
the person thus distinguished, though all the difficulties are the same in his case as 
in Peter's. But Simeon (Su^ewv) and Simon are the same name, the latter being on- 
ly an abridged, form, better suited to the inflections of the Greek than the former.— 
This preference of the full Hebrew form was doubtless meant to be characteristic of 
James, who seems to have been in general very zealous for ancient Jewish usages in 
all things. 

Has condescended to take. Common trans, "did visit them to take," &c. This 
much clearer translation is justified by the meaning which Bretschneider has given 
to vrurKeKTopai, benigne voluit, &c, for which he quotes the Greek of the Alexandrian 
version. 

Harmonize, (verse 15.) The original (cvufavovotv) refers in the same manner as 
this word does to the primary idea of accordance in sound, (symphony ,)a.nd.thenceby a. 
metonymy is applied to agreement in general. The passage of prophecy is quoted 
by James from Amos ix. 11, 12, and accords, in the construction which he puts up- 
on it, much better with the Alexandrian Greek version, than with the original He- 
brew or the common translations. The prophet (as Kuinoel observes) is describing 
the felicity of the golden age, and declares that the Jews will subdue their enemies 
and all nations, and that all will worship Jehovah. Now this, James accomodates to 
the present purpose, and applies to the propagation of the gospel among the Gentiles, 
and their reception into the Christian community. (See Rosenmueller, Acts, xv. 17, 
for a very full exegesis of this passage.) 

Well known to God are all Ms works. These words have been made the subject of 
a great deal of inquiry among commentators, who have found some difficulties in 
ascertaining their connection with the preceding part of the discourse. Various 
new and unauthorized renderings of the words have been proposed, but have been 
generally rejected It seems to me that the force of the passage is considerably illus- 
trated by throwing the whole emphasis of the sentence upon the word "all"— u Known 
unto God are all his works from the beginning of ages." James is arguing on the 
equal and impartial grace of God, as extended not only to the Jews, but also to the 
Gentiles; — not to one nation merely, but to all his creatures. " Thus saith the Lord 
who makes (or does) all things." The original Hebrew of the prophecy indeed, does not 
contain this, but that is itself a circumstance which shows that James had a particular 
object in this accomodation of the words to this form and purpose. 

So I think, fyc. (verse 19.) Hammond and others have attempted to find in the 
original of this verb (Kpivw) a peculiar force, implying that James announced his de- 
cision with a kind of judicial emphasis, in the character of " Bishop of Jerusalem." 
The groundlessness of this translation is shown by Bloomfield's numerous references 
to classical authority for the simple meaning of "think." The difficulties in the twen- 
tieth verse are so numerous and weighty, and have been made the subject of such 
protracted and minute discussions by all the great commentators, that it would be 
vain to attempt any account of them here. 

The great eminence of James among the apostles is very fully- 
shown in several incidental allusions made to him in other passa- 
ges of the apostolic writings. Thus when Peter, after his mirac- 
ulous release from prison, came to the house of Mary the mother 
of John Mark, he, at departing from the Christians there assem- 
bled, told them to tell James and the brethren; implying, of 
course, that James was altogether the most prominent person 
among them, and might justly be considered chief apostle in 
the absence of Peter ; and that to him any message intended for 
all, might be appropriately first addressed. In the same way did 
the angel, at the resurrection of Jesus, distinguish Peter among all 
the apostles, mentioning him alone by name, as the individual per- 
son to whom the divine message was to be delivered. 

51 



398 JAMES', THE LITTLE 7 , 

But no where is his eminence among the apostles so strongly 
marked, as in Paul's account of his own visits to Jerusalem, and 
the incidents connected with them. He there mentions "James, the 
brother of our Lord," in such terms as to show that he must have 
been one of the apostles ; thus adding a valuable confirmation to 
the testimony above adduced in favor of this very point, that 
James, the brother of Jesus, was an apostle. Paul's words are, 
" Other of the apostles, (besides Peter,) saw I none, except James, 
the Lord's brother ;" an expression which all analogy requires to 
be construed into a clear assertion that this James was an apostle. 
In speaking of his second visit, fourteen years after, Paul also 
bears a noble testimony to the eminence of James, and, what is 
remarkable, gives him the very first place among those three whom 
he mentions by name. He says, a When James, Cephas, and 
John, who seemed to be pillars, perceived the grace that was given 
to me, they gave to me and Barnabas the right hand of fellow- 
ship." This very peculiar arrangement of these three great names, 
has seemed so strange to the more stubborn Papists, that they can 
not believe that the Cej)lias here mentioned in the second place, 
is their great idol, Peter ; and many of them have maintained, in 
long arguments, that he was not Peter, — a notion which might 
seem plausible at first glance, from the circumstance, that through- 
out his whole narrative, Paul has been speaking of Peter by the 
common Greek form of his surname, while in this particular pas- 
sage, he uses the original Hebrew word, Cephas. But this verbal 
change is of no consequence whatever, except as showing that 
in this connection there was something which suggested a prefer- 
ence of the Hebrew name, while mentioning him along with the 
two other great apostolic chiefs, James and John. And even this 
very peculiar promotion of James to the first place, is easily ex- 
plained by a consideration of the subject in connection with which 
these personages are mentioned. James was unquestionably the 
great leader of the sticklers for Mosaic forms ; and he is therefore 
the most important person to be quoted in reference to Paul's re- 
ception, while the dissensions about circumcision were raging. Pe- 
ter, on the other hand, being himself the great champion of open 
Gentile communion, from his having been himself the first of all 
men to bring them under the gospel, was, of course, understood 
to be a favorer of Paul's views, of the noble catholic extension of 
Christianity ; and his name was therefore of reallyl ess importance 
in Paul's statement, than the name of James, who was everywhere 



JAMES, 



LITTLE. 399 



known as the head of the circumcision party, and being mention- 
ed as having shown such respect to Paul, would make it evident 
that the two Hellenist apostles were taken into favor by all par- 
ties, and heartily commended to the great work of evangelizing 
the heatheiL 

The especially watchful zeal of James, for the preservation of 
Mosaic forms, is very distinctly implied in another passage of the 
same epistle. He had, in a nobly considerate spirit of compro- 
mise, agreed that it was best to receive all the Gentile converts as 
Christian brethren, though they conformed only very partially to 
the Mosaic institutions. It was perfectly a matter of common 
sense, to every reasonable man, that the progress of the gospel 
would be greatly hindered, and almost brought to a stand, among 
the heathen, if a minute adherence to all the corporeal observ- 
ances of the Levitical code, were required for Christian commun- 
ion ; and James, though profoundly reverencing all the require- 
ments of his national religion, was too wise to think of imposing 
all these rituals upon those whose whole habits would be at war 
with the observance of them, though in heart and in life they 
might be fully fitted to appreciate and enjoy the blessings of Christ's 
spiritual covenant. He therefore distinctly expressed his accord- 
ance with Peter, in these general principles of Christian policy, 
yet, as subsequent events show, he was by no means disposed to 
go to all lengths with the more zealous chief of the apostles, in 
his readiness to renounce, in his own person, all the peculiarities 
of Jewish habits ; and seems to have still maintained the opinion, 
that the original, pure Hebrew apostles, should live in the most 
scrupulous observance of their religious exclusiveness, towards 
those whom the Levitical law would pronounce unclean, and too 
much polluted with various defilements, to be the familiar asso- 
ciates of a truly religious Jew. This sentiment of James appears 
to have been well known to Peter, who, conscious of the peculiar 
rigidity of his great apostolic associate, on these points, wisely 
sought to avoid all occasions of needlessly exciting complaints 
and dissensions among the chief ministers of the word of truth. 
For this reason, as has already been narrated in his life, when he 
was at Antioch, though during the first part of his residence there, 
he had, without the slightest scruple, gone familiarly and fre- 
quently into the company of the unbelieving Gentiles, eating and 
drinking with them, without regard to any liability to corporeal 
pollutions, that were against the rules of Levitical purity, — yet 



400 



JAMES. THE LITTLE. 



when some persons came down from Jerasalem, from James. he 
entirely withdrew himself, all at once, within the strict bounds of 
Mosaic observances. Perhaps these visitors from James had been 
specially instructed by him to note the demeanor of Peter, and to 
see whether, in his zeal for removing all obstruction out of the 
way of the Gentile converts, he might not forget what was due 
to his own character as a descendant of Abraham, and a disciple 
of him who so faithfully fulfilled all the. righteousness of the law. 
However this might be, Peter's actions plainly expressed some 
dread of offending James, and those who came from him ; else he 
certainly would not have refrained, in this remarkable manner, 
from a course of conduct, which he had before followed unhesita- 
tingly, as though he had not the slightest doubt of its perfect mor- 
al propriety ; and the conclusion is reasonable, that he now changed 
his demeanor, only from views of expediency, and a regard to the 
jealous sensitiveness of his great associate, on points of Levitieal 
law. 

HIS APOSTOLIC OFFICE. 

From these and other passages, implying a great eminence of 
James in the direction of the plans of evangelization, it is evident, 
that, in the absence of Peter, he must have been the most impor- 
tant person among the apostles at Jerusalem : and after the per- 
manent removal of the commissioned apostolic chief, to other and 
wider fields of action, his rank, as principal person among all the 
ministers of Christ in Jerusalem, mast have been very decidedly 
established. From this circumstance has originated the notion 
that he was ''bishop of Jerusalem:"" and this is the title with 
which the later Fathers have attempted to decorate him,— as if 
any honor whatever could be conferred on an apostle, by giving 
him the title of a set of inferior ministers appointed by the ori- 
ginal commissioned preachers of Christ, to be merely their sub- 
stitutes in the instruction and management of those numerous 
churches which could not be blessed by the presence of an apos- 
tle, and to be their successors in the supreme earthly administra- 
tion of the affairs of the Christian community, when the great 
founders had all been removed from their labors, to their rest. 
How nearly the duties performed by James corresponded to the 
modern episcopal function, it is utterly impossible to sav. for the 
simple reason that not the slightest record of his actions is left, 
to which references can be made, on this interesting question. 
That he was the most eminent of the apostles resident at Jerusa- 



JAMES, THE LITTLE. 



401 



lem, is quite clear ; and that by him, under these circumstances, 
were performed the great proportion of the pastoral duties among 
the believers in that city, may be most justly supposed ; and his 
influence over Christian converts would by no means be limited 
by the walls of the Holy city. In his apostolic functions, he, of 
course, became known to all resorting to that place ; and his 
faithful and eminent ministry in the capital of the Jewish reli- 
gion would extend not only his fame, but the circle of his per- 
sonal acquaintances, throughout all parts of the world, from 
which pilgrims came to the great annual festivals in Jerusalem. 
His immense apostolic diocese, therefore, could not be very easily 
bounded, nor was it defined with any exactness, to prevent it from 
running into the limit's of those divisions of the fields of duty, in 
which Peter, Paul, John and others, had been more especially la- 
boring. His influence among the Jews in general, (whether be- 
lievers in Christ or not,) would, from various accounts, appear to 
have been greater than that of any other apostle ; and this, com- 
bined with the circumstances of his location, would seem to en- 
title him very fairly to the rank and character of the apostle of 
the "Dispersion." This was a term transferred from the ab- 
stract to the concrete sense, and was applied in a collective mean- 
ing to the great body of Jews in all parts of the world, through 
which they were scattered by chance, choice, or necessity. 

Bishop of Jerusalem. The first application of this title to James, that appears on 
record, is in Eusebius, who quotes the still older authority of Clemens Alexandrinus. 
(Hist. Ecc, II. 1.) The words of Eusebius are, "Then James, who was called the 
brother of our Lord, because he was the son of Joseph, and whom, on account of his 
eminent virtue, those of ancient times surnamed the Just, is said to have first held 
the chair of the bishopric of Jerusalem. Clemens, in the sixth book of his Institutes, 
distinctly confirms this. For he says that 'after the Saviour's ascension, although 
the Lord had given to Peter, James, and John, a rank before all the rest, yet they did 
not therefore contend among themselves for the first distinction, but chose James the 
Just, to be bishop of Jerusalem.' And the same writer, in the seventh book of the 
same work, says these things of him, besides : ' To James the Just, and John, and Pe- 
ter, did the Lord, after the resurrection, grant the knowledge, [the gnosis, or know- 
ledge of mysteries,] and these imparted it to the other disciples.' " 

In judging of the combined testimony of these two ancient writers, it should be ob- 
served that it is not by any means so ancient and direct as that of P»lycrates, on the 
identity of Philip the apostle, and Philip the deacon, which these very Fathers quote 
with assent. Nor can their opinion be worth any more in this case than in the other. 
On no point, where a knowledge of the New Testament, and a sound judgment are 
the only guides, can the testimony of the Fathers be considered of any value what- 
ever; for the most learned of them betray a disgraceful ignorance of the Bible in 
their writings ; nor can the most acute of them compare, for sense and judgment, 
with the most ordinary of modern commentators. The whole course of Patristic 
theology affords abundant instances of the very low powers of these writers, for the 
discrimination of truth and falsehood. The science of historical criticism had no 
existence among them — nor indeed is there any reason why they should be consider- 
ed persons of any historical authority, except so far as they can refer directly to the 
original sources, and to the persons immediately concerned in the events which they 



402 JAMES, THE LITTLE. 

record. On all matters of less unexceptionable authority, where their testimony does 
not happen to contradict known truth or common sense, all that can be said in their 
favor, is, that the thing thus reported is not improbable ; but all supplements to the ac- 
counts given in the New Testament, unless they refer directly to eye-witnesses, may 
be pronounced very suspicious and wholly uncertain. In this case, Eusebius's opinion 
that James, the brother of our Lord was the son of Joseph, is worth no more than 
that of the latest commentator, because he had no more historical aids than the wri- 
ters of these days. Nor is the story of Clemens, that James was bishop of Jerusa- 
lem, worth any more ; because he does not refer to any historical evidence. 

HIS EPISTLE. 

Noticing some peculiar circumstances in the condition of his 
countrymen, throughout this wide dispersion, the apostie address- 
ed to them a written exhortation, suited to their spiritual necessi- 
ties. In the opening, he announces himself simply by the title of 
" James, the servant of Jesus Christ," not choosing to ground any 
claim for their respect or obedience on the accidents of birth or re- 
lationship, but on the mere character of one devoted to the cause 
of Christ for life and for death, — and entitled, by the peculiar com- 
mission of his Lord, to teach and direct his followers in his name. 
In consequence of this omission of the circumstance of relation- 
ship, a query has been even raised whether the author of this epis- 
tle could really be the same person as the brother of Jesus. Bat 
a trifle of this kind can never be allowed to have any weight in 
the decision of such a question. He directs himself, in general 
terms, to all the objects of his extended apostolic charge ; — " to 
the twelve tribes that are in the Dispersion.'''' 

A brief review of the contents of the epistle will furnish the 
best means of ascertaining its scope and immediate object, and 
will also afford just ground for tracing the connection, between 
the design of the apostle and the remarkable events in the history 
of those times, which are recorded by the other writers of that 
age. He first urges them to persevere in faith, without wavering 
or sinking under all the peculiar difficulties then pressing on 
them ; and refers them to God as the source of that wisdom 
which they need for their direction. From him alone, all good 
proceeds ; but no sin, nor temptations to sin. The cause of that, 
lies in man himself: let him not then blasphemously ascribe his 
evil dispositions nor the occasions of their development, to God ; 
but seeking wisdom and strength from abo\ r e, let him resist the 
tempter : — blessed is the man that thus endures and withstands 
the trial. He next points out to them the utter worthlessness of 
all the distinctions of rank and wealth among those professing 
the faith of Jesus. Such base respect of persons on the score of 
accidental worldly advantages, is denounced, as being foreign to 



JAMES, THE LITTLE. 



403 



the spirit of Christianity. True religion requires something 
more than a profession of faith ; its substance and its signs are 
the energetic and constant practice of virtuous actions, and it al- 
lows no dispensations or excuses to any one. He next dwells es- 
pecially on the high responsibilities of those who assume the of- 
fice of teaching. The tongue requires a most watchful restraint, 
lest passion or haste pervert the advantages of eminence and in- 
fluence, into the base instruments of human wrath. The true 
manifestations of religious knowledge and zeal, must be in a spirit 
of gentleness, forbearance, and love, — -not in the expressions of 
hatred, nor in cursing. But of this pure, heavenly spirit, their 
late conduct had shown them to be lamentably destitute. Strifes, 
tumults, and bitter denunciations, had betrayed their un-Christian 
character. They needed therefore, to humbly seek this meek 
spirit from God, and not proudly to assume the prerogatives of 
judgment and condemnation, which belonged to Him alone. 
His condemnation was indeed about to fall on their country. 
With most peculiar ruin would it light on those now reveling in 
their ill-gotten riches, and rejoicing in the vain hope of a perpet- 
ual prosperity. But let the faithful persevere, cheered by the 
memory of the bright examples of the suffering pious of other 
days, and by the hope of the coming of their Lord, whose ap- 
pearance in glory and judgment, would soon crown their fervent 
prayers. Meanwhile, supported by this assurance, let them con- 
tinue in a virtuous course, watching even their words, visiting 
the sick in charity and mercy, and all exhorting and instructing 
each other in the right way. 

The peculiar difficulties of the times here referred to, are — a 
state of bloody intestine commotion, disturbing the peace of socie- 
ty, and desolating the land with hatred, contention and murder ; 
■ — a great inequality of condition, in respect to property,— some 
amassing vast wealth by extortion, and abusing the powers and 
privileges thereby afforded, to the purposes of tyranny, — condemn- 
ing and killing the just ; — a perversion of laws for the gratifica- 
tion of private spite ; — and everywhere a great occasion for good 
men to exercise patience and faith, relying upon God alone, for 
the relief of the community from its desperate calamities. But a 
prospect was already presented of a consummation of these dis- 
tracting troubles, in the utter ruin of the wicked ; a change in the 
condition of things was about to occur, which would bring pov- 
erty and distress upon the haughty oppressors, who had heaped 



404 



JAMES, THE LITTLE. 



treasure together only for the last days. The brethren therefore, 
had but a little time to wait for the coming of the Lord. Both of 
these two latter expressions point very clearly at the destruction 
of Jerusalem,— for this is the uniform reference which these terms 
had, in those days, among the Christians. Jesus had promised 
his chosen disciples, that their generation should not pass away, 
till all those awful calamities which he denounced on the Jewish 
state, should be fulfilled ; and for this event all his suffering fol- 
lowers were now looking, as the seal of the truth of Christ's word. 
Searching in the history of the times, a few years previous to that 
final desolation, it is found in the testimony of impartial writers, 
that these were the too faithful details of the evils which then 
raged in Palestine. " For, under Felix, and again under Portius 
Festus, desperate patriots marched through the country, in whole 
bodies, and forcibly tore away with them the inhabitants of open 
places, and if they would not follow them, set fire to the villages, 
and enacted bloody scenes. They even made their appearance in 
the capital and at the feasts, where they mixed among the crowd 
of people, and committed many secret assassinations with con- 
cealed weapons. As to that which regards the external circum- 
stances and the civil condition of the Jews and Jewish Christians, 
they were far from being agreeable. The praetors, under all man- 
ner of pretexts, made extortions, and abused their legal authority 
for the sake of enriching themselves ; a person was obliged to pur- 
chase with money his liberation from their prisons, as well as his 
safety and his rights ; he might even purchase a license to com- 
mit crimes. In this state, under these circumstances, and in this 
degree of civil disorder, the author might probably have regarded 
his countrymen ; for, although he wrote to the whole world, yet 
his native land passed more immediately before his eyes." 

For the sources, and for the minuter proofs and illustrations of these views, see 
Hug's Introduction, as translated by Wait, Vol. II. §§ 148-159. 

In the immediate consideration of all these present iniquities 
and coming desolations, he wrote to prepare the believing Jews, 
in Palestine more particularly, but also throughout the world, for 
the overwhelming consummation of their nation's destiny. Ter- 
rible as would be this doom, to the wicked, and mournful as would 
be these national desolations, to all, the righteous should find con- 
solations in the peaceful establishment of the spiritual kingdom of 
their Lord, over the ruins of the dominion of his murderers, — of 
those who had " condemned and killed the just One, though he 



JAMES, THE LITTLE. 405 

did not resist them." But in all these awful signs, should the 
faithful see the forewarned comins: of the Son of Man ; and as he 
himself told his chosen apostles, " then should they lift up their 
heads ; for their redemption drew nigh." 

Besides these external troubles, there were others of a different 
character, arising and existing solely among those who professed 
the religion of Christ. The instructions given by Paul, in refer- 
ence to the absolute necessity of faith, and the insufficiency of a 
mere formal routine of religious duties, had been most grossly per- 
verted into a warrant for the all-sufficiency of a mere belief ] as 
the means of salvation • — an error by no means limited in its mis- 
chievous existence, to the days of the apostles, but so comfortable 
to the minds of mere religious formalists, in all ages of Christian- 
ity, that a new revelation, like that here made by James, though 
directly repeated through every century of the Christian era, would 
be equally vain, for the prevention or the remedy of this never-dy- 
ing heresy. All the words of James on the subject of faith and 
works, are evidently aimed at the refutation of those who had ta- 
ken advantage of the opinions which Paul had expressed, on the 
same subjects ; but which were expressed with a totally different 
reference, being stated not generally nor abstractly, but in appli- 
cation to some particular dogmatic errors. James, after distinct- 
ly condemning the " unlearned and unstable, who thus wrested to 
their own destruction the things hard to be understood in the 
writings of Paul," next attacks certain persons who, without being 
authorized or qualified, had assumed the station and responsibility 
of religious teachers. Many persons taking up the office of in- 
structors in this manner, had caused great confusion, by using 
their hasty tongues, in mere polemic and denunciatory discourse, 
condemning and cursing, in unmeasured terms, those who differ- 
ed from them in opinion. These he rebukes, as thus " giving oc- 
casion for offense and error to all :" and sets forth the character 
of that true wisdom which comes from above, and which is peace- 
able, u sowing the fruit of righteousness in peace." 

Many teachers. In order to understand this reference, it should be noticed that 
the word masters in the common translation of chap. iii. verse 1, of this epistle, is 
not to betaken in the common modern sense, but in that of "religious teachers." 
The original is not Kupto* {Kwcioi,) " Lords," "Masters," — but EioaawaXoi ( didaskaloi,) 
"Teachers." The translators probably intended it only in the latter sense ; for the 
word "Master" really has that meaning in such connections, in good authors of that 
age ; and even at this day, in England, the same usage of the word is very common, 
though almost unknown in this country, except in technical phrases. 

52 



406 JAMES, THE LITTLE- 

HI S HEATH. 

The epistle was probably the last great act of his life. INo ie 
cord, indeed, of any of his labors, except this living instance, ex- 
ists of his later years ; but there is certain ground for supposing 
that his residence in Jerusalem was characterized by a steady 
course of apostolic labors, in the original sphere of action, to which 
the twelve had first confined themselves for many years. When, by 
the special calls of God, in providences and in revelations, one 
and another of the apostles had been summoned to new and 
distant fields, east, west, north and south, " preaching repentance 
and remission of sins, in his name, among all nations, beginning 
at Jerusalem," and bearing witness of his works, thence, through 
Judea, and Samaria, and unto the uttermost part of the earth," 
there was still needed one, who, highly " indued with power from 
on high," might remain in that city to which all the sons of Isra- 
el, throughout the world, looked as the fountain of religious light. 
There too was the scene of the first great triumphs of the Chris- 
tian faith, as well as of the chief toils, the trials, and the death of 
the great founder himself. All these circumstances rendered Je- 
rusalem still an important post to the apostles ; and they therefore 
left on that station the apostle, whose steady courage in the cause 
of Christ, and blameless yet jealous conformity to the law of Mo- 
ses, fitted him at once for the bold maintenance of his Master's 
commission, and for the successful .advancement of the gospel 
among the faithful believers of the ancient covenant. Thus 
James continued at Jerusalem throughout his life, being kept at 
this important station, perhaps on account of his age, as well as for 
his fitness in other respects ; as there is some reason to think that 
he was older than those more active apostles who assumed the 
foreign departments of the work. His great weight of character, 
as evinced in the council of the apostles, and by the fear which 
Peter showed of offending him, very naturally gives the idea of a 
greater age than that of the other apostles ; and this notion is fur- 
thermore confirmed by the circumstance that the brethren of Je- 
sus, among whom this apostle was certainly included, are men- 
tioned as assuming an authority over their divine relation, and 
claiming a right to control and direct his motions, which could 
never have been assumed, according to the established order of 
Jewish families, unless they had been older than he. It is there- 
fore a rational supposition, that James was one of the oldest, per- 
haps the oldest, of the apostles ; and at any rate lie appears to have 



AMES, 



LITTLE. 407 



been more advanced in life than any of those who are character- 
ized with sufficient distinctness to offer the means of conjecture on 
this point. 

From the high charge of this great central apostolic station, in 
which he had, through a course of more than twenty- five years, 
accumulated the ripe honors of a " righteous" name upon his 
hoary head, James was now called to end a career, which so much 
resembled that of the ancient prophets, by a death equally assim- 
ilated to the bloody fate to which so many of them had been 
doomed by the subjects of their reproofs. The fact and circum- 
stances of his death are given on an authority so blameless and 
disinterested as not to admit of dispute ; nor is there any thing 
in the narrative which can throw the slightest suspicion upon it. 
The eminent Jewish historian, Josephus, himself a resident in 
Jerusalem at that time, and an eye-witness of these events, and 
acquainted by sight and fame, at least, with James, has given a 
clear account of the execution of this apostle, which can best 
evince its own merit by being given entire. 

The account which Josephus has given, shows that the 
death of James, must have happened during Paul's imprison- 
ment, and is delivered in the following words :— " The emperor, 
being informed of the death of Festus, sent Albinus to be prefect 
of Judea. But the younger Ananus, who, as we said before, was 
made high priest, was haughty in his behavior, and very am- 
bitious. He was also of the sect of the Sadducees, who, as we 
have also observed before, are above all other Jews severe in their 
judicial sentences. This then being the temper of Ananus, he, 
thinking he had a convenient opportunity, because Festus was 
dead, and Albinus was not yet arrived, called a council, and 
brought before it James, brother of Jesus, who was called Christ, 
with several others, where they were accused of being transgress- 
ors of the law, and stoned to death. But the most moderate men 
of the city, who were also the most learned in the laws, were 
offended at this proceeding. They sent therefore privately to the 
king, and entreated him to give orders to Ananus to abstain from 
such conduct in future. And some went to meet Albinus, who 
was coming from Alexandria, and represented to him, that Ana- 
nus had no right to call a council without his permission. Albi- 
nus, approving of what they said, wrote a very severe letter to 
Ananus, threatening to punish him for what he had done. And 
king Agrippa took away from him the priesthood, after he had 



408 JAMES, THE LITTLE. 

possessed it three months, and appointed in his stead Jesus, the 
son of Damnaeus." From this account of Josephus we learn, 
that James, notwithstanding he was a Christian, was so far from 
being an object of hatred to the Jews, that he was rather beloved 
and respected. At least his death excited very different sensa- 
tions from that of the first James ; and the Sadducean high 
priest, at whose instigation he suffered, was punished for his of- 
fense by the loss of his office. 

This translation is taken from Marsh's Michaelis, (Introd. Vol. IV. pp. 287, 288.) 
The original is in the Jewish Antiquities of Josephus. (XX. ix. 1.) 

This however, is not the statement which the early Christian 
writers give of the death of James the Just ; but from the oldest 
historian of the church, is derived another narrative, so highly 
decorated with minute particulars, that while it is made very much 
more interesting than the concise and simple account given by 
Josephus, it is at the same time rendered altogether suspicious by 
the very circumstance of its interesting minuteness. Josephus 
had no temptation whatever to pervert the statement. He gives 
it in terms strongly condemnatory of the whole transaction ; but 
the Christian writers, as they have shown in other such instan- 
ces, are too often disposed to sacrifice truth, for the sake of making 
a story whose incidents harmonize best with their notions of a 
desirable martyrdom. The story however, deserves a place here, 
both for the sake of a fair comparison, and on account of its own 
interesting character. 

" James, the brother of our Lord, surnamed the Just, was holy 
from his mother's womb. He drank neither wine, nor strong 
drink; nor ate any creature wherein was life. There never came 
a razor upon his beard ;■ — he anointed not himself with oil, nei- 
ther did he use a bath. To him only it was lawful to enter into 
the holy of holies. He wore no woolen, but only linen gar- 
ments ; and entered the temple alone, where he was seen upon his 
knees, supplicating for the forgiveness of the people, till his knees 
became hard, and covered with a callus, like those of a camel: 
On account of his eminent righteousness, he was called the Just, 
and Oblias, which signifies ''the people's fortress." Then, after 
describing the divisions among the people respecting Christianity, 
the account states, that all the leading men among the Scribes and 
Pharisees, came to James, and entreated him to stand up on the 
battlements of the temple, and persuade the people assembled at 
the passover, to have juster notions concerning Jesus ; and that, 



JAMES, THE LITTX.fi. 4$^ 

when thus mounted on the battlements, he cried with a loud voice, 
" Why do ye question me about Jesus, the Son of Man ? He 
even sits in heaven, at the right hand of great power, and will 
come in the clouds of heaven." With this declaration, many 
were satisfied, and cried ." Hosanna to the Son of David." But 
the unbelieving Scribes and Pharisees, mortified at what they had 
done, produced a riot ; for they consulted together, and then cried 
out, "Oh! oh ! even the Just one is himself deceived." They 
went up, therefore, and cast down the Just, and said among 
themselves, " Let us stone James the Just." And they began to 
stone him, for he did not die with his fall ; but turning, he 
kneeled, saying, "I entreat, O Lord God the Father, forgive 
them, for they know not what they do." And while they were 
stoning him, one of the priests, of the sons of Rahab, spoken of 
by Jeremiah the prophet, cried out, " Cease ; what do ye ? Jus- 
tus prays for us." But a certain one among them, a fuller, took 
a lever, such as he had used to squeeze garments, and smote Jus- 
tus on the head. Thus he suffered martyrdom ; and they buri- 
ed him in that place, and his grave-stone yet remains near the 
temple." 

This story is from Hegesippus, as quoted by Eusebius, \o whom alone we owe its 
preservation, — the works of the original author being all lost, except such fragments, 
accidentally quoted by other writers. The translation I have taken from the MS. of 
the Rev. Dr. Murdock, to whose research I am already so much indebted in simi- 
lar instances. 

The comments of Michaehs on these two testimonies, may be appropriately sub- 
joined. (Introd. Vol. IV. pp. 288, 291. Marsh's translation.) 

" The account given by Hegesippus, contains an intermixture of truth and fable; 
and in some material points contradicts the relation of Joseph us, to whieh no objec- 
tion can be made. It confirms however the assertion, that James was in great repute 
among the Jews, even among those who did not believe in Christ ; and that they paid 
him much greater deference than we might suppose they would have shown to a 
Christian bishop, and a brother of Christ, whom they had crucified. Many parts of 
the preceding account are undoubtedly fabulous, especially that part which relates 
to the request of the Jews, that James would openly declare from the battlements of 
the temple, that Jesus was not the Messiah. Indeed, if this were true, it would not 
redound to his honor ; for it would imply that he had acted with duplicity, and not 
taken a decided part in favor of Christianity, or the Jews could never have thought of 
making such a request. But that a person, who was the head of the church in Jeru- 
salem, should have acted such a double part as to leave it undecided what party he 
had embraced, and that too for thirty years after the ascension, is in itself almost in- 
credible. It is inconsistent likewise with the relation, of Josephus, and is virtually 
contradicted both by Paul and by Luke, who always speak of him with the utmost 
respect, and have no where given the smallest hint, that he concealed the principal 
doctrines of the Christian religion." 

Thus gloriously ended the steady, bright career of "the second 
apostolic martyr." Honored, even by the despisers of the faith 
and haters of the name of Christ, with the exalted title of "the 
just," he added the solemn witness of his blood, to that of his di- 



410 JAMES, THE LITTLE. 

vine brother and Lord, and to that of his young apostolic brother, 
whose name and fate were equally like his,— a testimony which 
sealed anew the truth of his own record against the sins of the 
oppressors, published in his last great earthly work :— " Ye have 
condemned and killed the just ; yet he doth not resist you," 



SIMON ZELOTES. 



HIS NAME. 

The ever-recurring difficulty about the distinctive appella- 
tions of the apostles, forms the most prominent point of inquiry 
in the life of this person, otherwise so little known as to afford 
hardly a single topic for the apostolic historian. The dispute 
here indeed involves no question about personal identity, but 
merely refers to the coincidence of signification between the two 
different words by which he is designated in the apostolic lists, to 
distinguish him from the illustrious chief of the twelve, who bore 
the same name with him. Matthew and Mark in giving the 
names of the apostles, — the only occasion on which they name 
him, — call him " Simon the Cananite ;"" but Luke, in asimilar no- 
tice, mentions him as "Simon Zelotes ;" and the question then 
arises, whether these two distinctive appellations have not a com- 
mon origin. In the vernacular language of Palestine, the word 
from which Cananite is derived, has a meaning identical with 
that of the root of the Greek word Zelotes ; and hence it is most 
rationally concluded, that the latter is a translation of the for- 
mer, — Luke, who wrote entirely for Greeks, choosing to translate 
into their language a term whose original force could be appre- 
hended only by those acquainted with the local circumstances 
with which it was connected. The name Zelotes, which may 
be faithfully translated by its English derivative, Zealot, has a 
meaning deeply involved in some of the most bloody scenes in 
the history of the Jews, in the apostolic age. This name, or 
rather its Hebrew original, was assumed by a set of ferocious des- 
peradoes, who, under the honorable pretense of a holy zeal for 
their country and religion, set all law at defiance, and constitu- 
ting themselves at once the judges and the executors of right, 
they went through the land waging war against the Romans, and 



412 



SIMON ZELOTES. 



all who peacefully submitted to that foreign sway. This sect, 
however, did not arise by this name until many years after the 
death of Jesus, and there is no good reason to suppose that Si- 
mon derived his surname from any connection with the bloody 
Zealots who did their utmost to increase the last agonies of their 
distracted country, but from a more holy zeal displayed in a more 
righteous manner. It may have been simply characteristic of his 
general conduct, or it may have referred to some particular occa- 
sion in which, he decidedly evinced this trait of zeal in a righteous 
cause. 

The Cananite. — In respect to this name, a most absurd and un justifiable blunder 
has stood in all the common versions of it, which deserves notice. This is the rep- 
resentation of the word in the form, " Caimauite." which is a gross perversion of the 
original. The Greek word is Kavavi-mc, (Kananites,) a totally different word from 
that which is used both in the New Testament, and in the Alexandrian version of 
the Old, to express the Hebrew term for an inhabitant of Canaan. The name of 
the land of Canaan is always expressed by the aspirated form, Xavaav, which in the 
Latin and all modern versions is very properly expressed by " Chanaan." In Matt, 
xv. 22, where the Canaanitish woman is spoken of, the original is Xavavcua, (Cha- 
nanaia,) nor is there any passage in which the name of an inhabitant of Canaan 
is expressed by the form Kavavnys, {Cananites,) with the smooth K, and the single A 
Yet the Latin ecclesiastic writers, and even the usually accurate Natalis Alexander, 
express this apostle's name as " Simon Chananacus" which is the word for " Ca- 
naanite." 

The true force and derivation of the word is this. The name assumed in the 
language of Palestine by the ferocious sect above mentioned, was derived from the 
Hebrew primitive sop (Qaua or Kana,) and thence the name "Ojp (Kananl) was very 

fairly expressed, according to the forms and terminations of the Greek, by Kavavirtjs, 
(Kananites.) The Hebrew root is a verb which means "to be ztalous" an*i the 
name derived from it of course means, " one who is zealous" of which the just 
Greek translation is the word Z^Awr???, (Zelotcs,) the very name by which Luke rep- 
resents it in this instance. (Luke vi. 15 ; Acts i. 13.) " One of these names is, in 
short, a mere translation of the other, — nor is there any way of evading this con- 
struction, except by supposing that Luke was mistaken in supposing that Simon was 
called " the Zealot/"' being deceived by the resemblance of the name " Cananiies" to 
the Hebrew name of that sect. But no believer in the inspiration of the gospel can 
allow this supposition. Equally unfounded, and inconsistent with Luke's transla- 
tion, is the notion that the name Cananite is derived irom Cana the village of Gali- 
lee, famous as the scene of Christ's first miracle. 

The account given in the Life of Matthew shows the character of this sect, as it ex- 
isted in the last days of the Jewish state. Josephus describes them very fully in his 
history of the Jewish War, (iv. 3.) Simon probably received this name, however, 
not from any connection with a sect which arose long after the death of Christ, but 
from something in his own character which showed a great zeal for the cause which 
he had espoused. 

HIS HISTORY, 

No very direct statement as to his parentage is made in the 
New Testament ; but one or two incidental allusions to some cir- 
cumstances connected with it, afford ground for a reasonable con- 
clusion on this point. In the enumeration which Matthew and 
Mark give of the four brothers of Jesus, in the discourse of the 
offended citizens of Nazareth, Simon is mentioned along with 
James, Juda and Joses. It is worthy of notice, alsp ; that on all 



SIMON ZELOTES. 413 

the apostolic lists, Simon the apostle is mentioned between the 
brothers James and Juda ; an arrangement that can not be ac- 
counted for, except by supposing that he was also the brother of 
James. The reason why Juda is distinctly specified as the broth- 
er of James, while Simon is mentioned without reference to any 
such relationship, is, doubtless, that the latter was so well known 
by the appellation of the Zealot, that there was no need of speci- 
fying his relations, to distinguish him from Simon Peter. These 
two circumstances, incidentally mentioned, may be considered as 
justifying the supposition, that Simon Zelotes was the same per- 
son as Simon the brother of Jesus. In this manner, all the old 
writers have understood the connection ; and though such use is 
no authority, it is worth mentioning that the monkish chroniclers 
always consider Simon Zelotes as the brother of Juda ; and they 
associate these two, as wandering together in eastern countries, 
to preach the gospel in Persia and Mesopotamia. Others carry 
him into much more improbable wanderings. Egypt and North- 
ern Africa^ and even Britain, are mentioned as the scenes of his 
apostolic labors, in the ingenious narratives of those who under- 
took to supply almost every one of the nations of the eastern 
continent with an apostolic patron saint. All this is very poor 
consolation for the general dearth of facts in relation to this apos- 
tle ; and the searcher for historical truth will not be so well satis- 
fied with the tedious tales of monkish romance, as with the deci- 
ded and unquestionable assurance, that the whole history of this 
apostle, from beginning to end, is perfectly unknown, and that 
not one action of his life has been preserved from the darkness 
of an utterly impenetrable oblivion. 



53 



JUDA 



HIS NAME. 

The number of instances, among the men of the apostolic age, 
of two persons bearing the same name, is very curious, and 
seems to show a great poverty of appellatives among their pa- 
rents. Among the twelve there are two Simons, two Jameses, 
and two Judases ; and including those whose labors were any 
way connected with theirs, there are three Johns, (the Baptist, 
the Apostle, and John Mark,) and two Philips, besides other mi- 
nor coincidences. The confusion which this repetition of names 
causes among common readers, is truly undesirable ; and it re- 
quires attention for them to avoid error. In the case of this apos- 
tle, indeed, the occasion of error is obviated for the most part, by 
a slight change in the termination ; his name being generally 
written Juda, (in modern versions, Jucle,) while the wretched trai- 
tor who bears the same name, preserves the common form termin- 
ating in S, which is also the form in which Luke and John ex- 
press this apostle's name. A more serious difficulty occurs, how- 
ever, in a diversity noticed between the account given by the two 
first evangelists, and the forms in which his name is expressed in 
the writings of Luke and John, and in the introduction to his own 
epistle. Matthew and Mark, in giving the names of the apostles, 
mention in the tenth place, the name of Thaddeus, to whom the 
former evangelist also gives the name of Lebbeus. They give 
him a place before Simon Zelotes, and immediately after James, 
the son of Alpheus. Luke gives the tenth place to Simon Zelo- 
tes, in both his lists, and after him mentions " Judas, the brother 
of James : and John speaks of " Judas, (not Iscariot,") among the 
chosen disciples. Juda, in his epistle also, announces himself as 
" the brother of James." From all these circumstances it would 
seem to be very fairly inferred, that Judas, or Juda, the brother of 



J Ll DA. 415 

James, and Lebbeus or Thaddeus, were all only different names 
of the same apostle. But this view is by no means universally 
received, and some have been found bold enough to declare, that 
these two sets of names referred to different persons, both of whom 
were at different times numbered among the twelve apostles, and 
were received or excluded from the list by Jesus, from some vari- 
ous circumstances, now unknown ;— or were perhaps considered 
such by one evangelist or another, according to the notions and 
individual preferences of each writer. But such a view is so op- 
posed to the established impressions of the uniform and fixed char- 
acter of the apostolic list, and of the consistency of different parts 
of the sacred record, that it may very justly be rejected without 
the trouble of a discussion. 

Another inquiry still, concerning this apostle, is, whether he is 
the same as that Judas who is mentioned along with James, Joses 
and Simon, as the brother of Jesus. All the important points in- 
volved in this question, have been already fully discussed in the 
life of James, the Little ; and if the conclusion of that argument 
is correct, the irresistible consequence is, that the apostle Jude was 
also one of these relatives of Jesus. The absurdity of the view 
of his being a different person, can not be better exposed than by 
a simple statement of its assertions. It requires the reader to 
believe that there was a Judas, and a James, brothers and apos- 
tles ; and another Judas and another James, also brothers, and 
brothers of Jesus, but not apostles ; and that these are all men- 
tioned in the New Testament without anything like a satisfactory 
explanation of the reality and distinctness of this remarkable du- 
plicate of brotherhoods. Add to this, moreover, the circumstance 
that Juda, the author of the epistle, specifies himself as "the 
brother of James," as though that were sufficient to prevent his 
being confounded with any other Judas or Juda in this world ; — 
a specification totally useless, if there was another Judas, the 
brother of another James, all eminent as Christian teachers. 

There is still another question connected with his simple entity 
and identity. Ancient traditions make mention of a Thaddeus, 
who first preached the gospel in the interior of Syria ; and the 
question is, whether he is the same person as the apostle Juda, 
who is called Thaddeus by Matthew and Mark. The great ma- 
jority of ancient writers, more especially the Syrians, consider the 
missionary Thaddeus not as one of the twelve apostles, but as one 
of the seventy disciples, sent out by Jesus in the same way as the 



416 JUDA. 

select twelve. Another confirmation of the view that he was a 
different person from the apostle Jude, is found in the circum- 
stance, that the epistle which bears the name of the latter, was 
not for several centuries received by the Syrian churches, though 
generally adopted throughout all Christendom, as an inspired apos- 
tolic writing. But surely, if their national evangelizer had been 
identical with the apostle Jude who wrote that epistle, they would 
have been the first to acknowledge its authenticity and authority, 
and to receive it into their scriptural canon. 

So perfectly destitute are the gospel and apostolic history, of the 
slightest account of this apostle's life and actions, that his whole 
biography may be considered completed in the mere settlement of 
his name and identity. The only word that has been preserved 
as coming from his lips, is recorded in John's account of the part- 
ing discourses of Jesus to his disciples, on the eve of his crucifix- 
ion. Jesus was promising them that the love of God should be 
the sign and the reward of him who faithfully kept his command • 
ments, — " He that holds and keeps my commandments, is the man 
that loves me ; and he that loves me shall be loved by my Father ; 
and I will love him and manifest myself to him." These words 
constituted the occasion of the remark of Judas, thus recorded by 
John.. * Judas (not Iscariot) says to him, ' Lord ! how is it that 
thou wilt manifest thyself to us as thou dost not to the world V 
Jesus answered and said to him, c If a man love me, he will keep 
my words ; and my Father will love him, and we will come to 
him, and make our abode with him.' " A natural inquiry, aptly 
and happily suggested, and most clearly and satisfactorily answer- 
ed, in the plain but illustrative words of the divine teacher ! 
Would that the honest inquirer after the true, simple meaning of 
the words of God, might have his painful researches through the 
wisdom of ages, as well rewarded as did the favored hearers of 
Jesus \ And would that the trying efforts of critical thought 
might end in a result so brilliant and so cheering ! 

HIS EPISTLE. 

The solitary monument and testimony of his apostolic labors, 
are found in that brief, but strongly characterized and peculiar 
writing, which bears his name, and forms the last portion, but 
one, of the modern scriptural canon. Short as it is, and obscure 
too, by the numerous references it contains, to local and tempora- 
ry circumstances, there is much expressed in this little portion of 



JU DA, 



4 IT 



the apostolic writings, which is highly interesting to the inquirer 
into the darker portions of the earliest Christian history. 

Several very remarkable circumstances in this epistle, have, 
from the earliest ages of Christian theology, excited great inquiry 
among writers, and in many cases have not only led commenta- 
tors and critics to pronounce the work very suspicious in its char- 
acter, bat even absolutely to condemn it as unworthy of a place 
in the sacred canon. One of these circumstances is, that the 
writer quotes apocryphal books of a mystical and superstitious 
character, that have never been received by Christians or Jews, 
as possessing any divine authority, nor as entitled to any regard 
whatever in religious matters. At least two distinct quotations 
from these confessedly fictitious writings, are found in this brief 
epistle. The first is from the book of Enoch, which has been 
preserved even to the present day, in the Ethiopic translation ; the 
original Hebrew having been irrecoverably lost. Some of the 
highest authorities in orthodoxy and in learning have pronoun- 
ced the original to have been a very ancient writing ; — a forgery, 
indeed, since it professed to be the writing of Enoch himself,— but 
made up in the earliest ages of Rabbinical literature, after the Old 
Testament canon was completed, but before any portion of the 
New Testament was written, — probably some years before the 
Christian era, though the means of ascertaining its exact date are 
wanting. Another quotation, equally remarkable, occurs in this epis- 
tle, without any mention being made, however, of the exact source 
from which the passage has been drawn ; and the point is at pre- 
sent a subject of dispute, — as references have been made by differ- 
ent authorities, ancient and modern, to different apocryphal Jew- 
ish books, which contain similar passages. But the most valua- 
ble authorities, both ancient and modern, decide it to be a work 
now universally allowed to be apocryphal, — " the Ascension of 
Moses," which is directly quoted as authority on a subject alto- 
gether removed from human knowledge, and on which no testi- 
mony could be of any value, except it were derived directly and 
solely from the sources of inspiration. The consequence of these 
references to these two doubtful authorities, is, that many of the 
critical examiners of this epistle, in all ages, have felt themselves 
justified in condemning it. 

Tertullian (A. D. 200) is the earliest writer who has distinctly quoted this epistle. 
He refers to it in connection with the quotation from the book of Enoch. " Hence it 
is that Enoch is quoted by the apostle Jude." (De cultu feminarum,3.) Clement of Al- 
exandria also repeatedly quotes the epistle of Jude as an apostolic writing. Origen (A. 



418 juda. 

D. 230,) very clearly expresses his opinion in favor of this epistle as the production of 
Jude, the brother of Jesus. In his commentary on Matt. xiii. 55, where James, Simon 
and Jude are mentioned, he says, "Jude wrote an epistle, of few lines indeed, but 
full of powerful words of heavenly grace, who, at the beginning says, ' Jude, the ser- 
vant of Jesus Christ, and the brother of James.'" Origen thought everything con- 
nected with this epistle, of such high authority, that he considered the apocryphal 
book of " the Ascension of Moses," a work of authority, because it had been quoted 
by Jude, (verse 9.) He confesses however, that there were some who doubted the 
authenticity of the epistle of Jude; and that this was the fact, appears still more dis- 
tinctly from the account of the apostolic writings, given by Eusebius, (A. D. 320,) who 
sets it down among the disputed writings. The ancient Syriac version (executed be- 
fore A. D. 100,) rejects this as well as the second of Peter, and the second and third 
of John. After the fourth century all these became universally established in the 
Greek and Latin churches. The great Michaelis however, utterty condemns it as 
probably a forgery. (Introd. IV. xxix. 5.) 

The clearest statement of the character of this reference to the book of Enoch, is 
given by Hug's translator, Dr. Wait. (Introd. Vol. II. p. 618, note.) 

" This manifestly appears to have been the reason why Jude cited apocryphal 
works in his epistle, viz. for the sake of refuting their own assertions from those pro- 
ductions, which, like the rest of their nation, they most probably respected. For this 
purpose the book of Enoch was peculiarly calculated, since in the midst of all its in- 
eptiae and absurdities, this point, and the orders of the spiritual world, are strongly 
urged and discussed in it. It is irrelevant to the inquiry, how much of the present 
book existed at this time, for that it was framed by different writers, and at different 
periods, no critic can deny ; yet that this was the leading character of the work, and 
that these were the prominent dogmata of those parts which were then in existence, 
we have every presumptive evidence. The Hebrew names of angels, &c, such as 
the Ophanim, plainly indicate it to have been a translation from some lost Jewish 
original, which was doubtless known both to Peter and to Jude; nor can the unpreju- 
diced examiner of these epistles well hesitate to acknowledge Hug's explanation of 
them to be the most correct and the most reasonable." 

The whole defense of the epistle against these imputations, 
may be grounded upon the supposition, that the apostle was wri- 
ting against a peculiar class of heretics, who did acknowledge 
these apocryphal books to be of divine authority, and to whom 
he might quote these with a view to show, that even by their own 
standards of truth, their errors of doctrine and life must be con- 
demned. The sect of the Gnostics has been already mentioned 
in the life of John, as being the first ever known to have pervert- 
ed the purity of Christian doctrine, by heresy. These heretics 
certainly are not very fully described in those few passages of this 
short epistle that are directed at the errors of doctrine ; but the 
character of those errors which Jude denounces, is accordant 
with what is known of some of the prominent peculiarities of 
the Gnostics. But whatever may have been the particular char- 
acter of these heretics, it is evident that, they must, like the great 
majority of the Jews in those days, have acknowledged the di- 
vine authority of these ancient apocryphal writings ; and the 
apostle was therefore right in making use of quotations from these 
works, to refute their very remarkable errors. The evils which 
he denounced, however, were not merely of a speculative charac- 
ter : but he more especially condemns their gross immoralities, as 



JUDA. 419 

a scandal and an outrage on the purity of the Christian assem- 
blies with which they still associated. In all those passages where 
these vices are referred to, it will be observed that both immoral- 
ities and doctrinal errors are included in one common condemna- 
tion, which shows that both were inseparably connected in the 
conduct of those heretics whom the writer condemns. This cir- 
cumstance also does much to identify them with some of the 
Gnostical sects before alluded to, — more especially with the Nico- 
laitans, as they are called by John in the beginning of the Apoc- 
alypse, where he is addressing the church of Pergamos. In re- 
spect to this very remarkable peculiarity of a vicious and abom- 
inable life, combined with speculative errors, the ancient Christian 
writers very fully describe the Nicolaitans ; and their accounts 
are so unanimous, and their accusations so definite, that it is just 
and reasonable to consider this epistle as directed particularly 
against them. 

Nicolaitans. — An allusion has already been made to this sect in the life of John, 
but they deserve a distinct reference here also, as they are so distinctly mentioned in 
Jude's epistle. The explanation of the name which in the former passage (page 343,) 
was crowded out by other matters prolonging that part of the work beyond its due 
limits, may here be given most satisfactorily, in the words of the learned Dr. Hug. 
(Introd. Vol. II. note, § 182, original, § 174, translation.) 

" The arguments of those who decide them to have been the Nicolaitans, according 
to my opinion, are at present the following :-^-John in the Apocalypse describes the 
Nicolaitans nearly as the heretics are here represented to us, with the same compar- 
ison, and with the same vices ; persons who exercise the arts of Balaam, who taught 
Balak to ensnare the children of Israel, and to induce them to partake of idolatrous 
sacrifices, and to fornicate, (Acts ii. 14 : Jude 2 : 2 Peter ii. 15.) Even D;/?3 ac- 
cording to its derivation, is equivalent to NiKoXaos. They also certainly denied the 
Lord's creation and government of the world. Alter urn quidem fabricatorem, alium 

autem Patrem Domini et earn conditionem, quae est secundum nos non a primo 

Deo factam, sed a Virtute aliqua valde deorsum subjecta. (Iren. L. iii. c. 11.) If now 
all corporeal and material existence has its origin from the Creator of the world, 
who is a very imperfect and gross spirit, it flows naturally from this notion, that they 
could not admit a corporeal resuscitation by the agency of the Supreme Being, or by 
the agency of Jesus, in a universal day of judgment. With respect to the spiritual 
world, they also actually taught such absurdities, that it must be said of them Sot-as 
P\aa<i>n)iovo-i\ for they supposed, Aeones quosdam turpitudinis natos; et complexus, et 
permixtiones execrabiles, et obscaenas. (Tertullianus in append, ad Lib. de praes- 
cript. c. 46.) But, as to their excesses and abominable mode of life, the accounts of 
the ancients are so unanimous, and the accusations are so constituted, that the two 
apostolic epistles may have most pertinently referred to them." 

The passage from Irenaeus relating to this sect, (quoted on page 343,) contains a 
remarkable Latin word, " vulsio," not found in any other author, and not explained 
at all, in the common dictionaries. That miserable, unsatisfactory mass of words, 
Ainsworth's Thesaurus, does not contain it, and I was left to infer the meaning from 
the theme, vello, and it was therefore translated "fragment" — a meaning not incon- 
sistent with its true sense. Since that was printed, a learned friend, to whom the 
difficulty was mentioned, on searching for the word in better dictionaries, found it in 
Gesner's Thesaurus, distinctly quoted from the very passage, with a very satisfacto- 
ry explanation of its exact meaning. Gesner's account of it is as follows: " Vulsio, 
Irenaeus, iii. 11. Nicolaitae sunt vulsio ejus.i. e. surculiis hide enatiis, et revulsus, stolo, 
'a^oppw|. Sccla una ex altera velmtpullula/vit" " The meaning therefore is a " sucker," 



420 



JUUA. 



"a shoot or scion, springing out of the root or side of the stock/' and the expression 
in this passage may therefore be translated, " The Nicolaitans are a slip or sprig of 
the old stock of the Gnosis.'" And as Gesner happily explains it, " One sect, as it were, 
sprouted up from another." 

The word " scicntia" in this wretched Latin translation, is quoted along with the 
adjacent words from Paul's second epistle to Timothy, (vi. 20.) where he is warning 
him against the delusions of the Gnostics, and speaks of "the dogmas of the Gnosis," 
(yvwcis,) translated "science," but the word is evidently technical in this passage. Ire- 
naeus no doubt quoted it in the Greek, but his ignorant translator, not perceiving the 
peculiar force of Ihe word, translated it " scientia," losing all the sense of the express- 
ion. The common translations of the Bible have done the same, in the passage in 
2 Timothy vi. 20. 

Another circumstance in this epistle which has attracted a crit- 
ical notice, and which has occasioned its condemnation by some, 
is the remarkable coincidence both of sense and words between it 
and the second chapter of the second epistle of Peter. There 
are probably few diligent readers of the New Testament to whom 
this has not been a subject of curious remark, as several verses in 
one, seem a mere transcript of corresponding passages in the other. 
Various conjectures have been made to account for this resem- 
blance in matter and in words, — some supposing Jude to have 
written first, and concluding that Peter, writing to the same per- 
sons, made references in this manner to the substance of what 
they had already learned from another apostle, — and others sup- 
posing that Peter wrote first, and that Jude followed, and ampli- 
fied a portion of the epistle which had already lightly touched in 
some parts only upon the particular errors which the latter writer 
wished more especially to refute and condemn. This coinci- 
dence is nevertheless no more a ground for rejecting one or the 
other of the two writings, than the far more perfect parallelisms 
between the gospels are a reason for concluding that only one of 
them can be an authorized document. Both the apostles were 
evidently denouncing the same errors and condemning the same 
vices, and nothing was more natural than that this similarity of 
purpose should produce a proportional similarity of language. 
Either of the above suppositions is consistent with the character 
of the writings ; — Peter may have written first, and Jude may 
have taken a portion of that epistle as furnishing hints for a 
more protracted view of these particular points ; or, on the sup- 
position that Jude wrote first, Peter may have thought it worth 
while only to refer generally, and not to dwell very particularly 
on those points which his fellow-apostle had already so fully and 
powerfully treated. 

The particular churches to which this epistle was addressed, are 
utterly unknown ; nor do modern writers pretend to find any 



SIMON ZELOTES. 421 

means of detecting- the places to which it was addressed in any 
peculiar passage, except so far as the chief seats of the heretics, 
against whom he wrote, are supposed to be known. Asia Minor, 
Syria and the East, were the regions to which the Gnostical er- 
rors were mostly confined ; and in the former country more espe- 
cially they were objects of attention, to the ministers of truth, 
during the apostolic age and in succeeding times. It was proba- 
bly intended for the same persons to whom Peter wrote ; and what 
has been said on the direction of his two epistles, will illustrate 
the immediate design of this also. 

Its date is involved in the same uncertainty that covers all 
points in its own history and that of its author ; the prominent 
difficulty being its great brevity, in consequence of which it of- 
fers but few characteristics of any kind, for the decision of doubt- 
ful points ; and the life and works of Juda must therefore be set 
down among those matters, in which the indifference of those who 
could once have preserved historical truth for the eyes of poster- 
ity, has left even the research of modern criticism, not one hook 
to hang a guess upon. 



3 4. 



JUDAS ISCARIOT. 



This name doubtless strikes the eye of the Christian reader, 
as almost a stain to the fair page of apostolic history, and a dis- 
honor to the noble list of the holy, with whom the traitor was as- 
sociated. But he who knew the hearts of all men from the be- 
ginning, even before their actions had developed and displayed 
their characters, chose this man among those whom he first sent 
forth on the message of coming grace ; and all the gospel records 
bear the name of the traitor along with those who were faithful 
even unto death ; nor does it behove the unconsecrated historian 
to affect, about the arrangement of this name, a delicacy which 
the gospel writers did not manifest. 

Of his birth, his home, his occupation, his call, and his previ- 
ous character, the sacred writers bear no testimony : and all 
which the inventive genius of modern criticism has been able to 
present in respect to any of these circumstances, is drawn from 
no more certain source than the various proposed etymologies and 
significations of his name. But the plausibility which is worn 
by each one of these numerous derivations, is of itself a sufficient 
proof of the little dependence which can be placed upon any con- 
clusion so lightly founded. The inquirer is therefore safest in 
following merely the reasonable conjecture, that his previous char- 
acter had been respectable, not manifesting to the world at least, 
any baseness which would make him an infamous associate. For 
though the Savior in selecting the chief ministers of his gospel, 
did not take them from the wealthy, the high-born, the refined, or 
the learned ; and though he did not scruple even to take those of 
a low and degraded occupation, his choice would nevertheless en- 
tirely exclude those who were in any way marked by previous 
character, as more immoral than the generality of the people 
among whom they lived. In short, it is very reasonable to sup- 



JUDAS ISCARIOT. 423 

pose, that Judas Iscariot was a respectable man, probably with a 
character as good as most of his neighbors had, though he may have 
been considered by some of his acquaintance, as a close, sharp 
man in money matters ; for this is a character most unquestiona- 
bly fixed on him in those few and brief allusions which are made 
to him in the gospel narratives. Whatever may have been the 
business to which he had been devoted during his previous life, 
he had probably acquired a good reputation for honesty, as well 
as for careful management of property ; for he is on two occasions 
distinctly specified as the treasurer and steward of the little com- 
pany or family of Jesus ;— an office for which he would not have 
been selected, unless he had maintained such a character as that 
above imputed to him. Even after his admission into the frater- 
nity, he still betrayed his strong acquisitiveness, in a manner that 
will be fully exhibited in the history of the occurrence in which it 
was most remarkably developed. 

Iscariot. — The present form of this word appears from the testimony of Beza, to be 
different from the original one, which, in his oldest copy of the New Testament, was 
given without the I in the beginning, simply S/cap/wr??? ; (Scariotes ;) and this is con- 
firmed by the very ancient Syriac version, which expresses it by f.^,Qjj.ri£D (Sekar- 

yuta.) Origen also, the oldest of the Christian commentators, (A. D. 230,) gives the 
word without the initial vowel, " Scariot." It is most reasonable therefore to con- 
clude that the name was originally Scariot, and that the/ was prefixed, for the sake 
of the easier pronunciation of the two initial consonants ; for some languages are so 
.smoothly constructed, that they do not allow even *S to precede a mute, without a 
vowel before. Just as the Turks, in taking up the names of Greek towns, change 
Scopia into Iscopia, &c. The French too, change the Latin Spiritus into Esprit, as 
do the Spaniards into Espirikt; and similar instances are numerous. 

The very learned Matthew Poole, in his Synopsis Criticorum, (Matt. x. 4,) gives a 
very full view of the various interpretations of this name. Six distinct etymologies 
and significations of this word have been proposed, most of which appear so plausi- 
ble, that it may seem hard to decide on their comparative probabilities. That which 
is best justified by the easy transition from the theme, and by the aptness of the sig- 
nification to the circumstances of the person, is the First, proposed by an anony- 
mous author, quoted in the Parallels of Junius, and adopted by Poole. This is the 

derivation from the Syriac c£o..»j.^LCD (sekharyut,) "a bag,'' or "parse;" root cog- 
nate with the Hebrew ""CD (sakhar.) No. 1, Gibbs's Hebrew Lexicon, and *iJiD {sagar,) 
Syr. & Arab. id. The word thus derived must mean the " bag-man," the "purser," 
which is a most happy illustration of John's account of the office of Judas, (xii. 6: 
xiii. 29.) It is, in short, a name descriptive of his peculiar duty m receiving the 
money of the common stock of Christ and his apostles, buying the necessary provis- 
ions, administering their common charities to the poor, and managing all their pe- 
cuniary affairs, — performing all the duties of that officer who in English is called a 
" steward." Judas Iscariot, or rather " Scariot," means therefore " Judas the 

STEWARD." 

The second derivation proposed is that of Junius, {Par all.) who refers it to a sense 
descriptive of his fate. The Syriac, Hebrew, and Arabic root, -DO (sakar,) has in the 
first of these languages, the secondary signification of " strangle," and the personal 
substantive derived from it, might therefore mean, " one who was strangled." Light- 
foot says that if this theme is to be adopted, he should prefer to trace the name to the 
word N"OEW which with the Rabbinical writers is used in reference to the same prim- 



424 JUDAS ISCARIOT. 

itive, in the meaning of " strangulation." But both these, even without regarding the 
great aptness of the first definition above given, may be condemned on their own de- 
merits ; because, they suppose either that this name was applied to him, only after his 
death, — an exceedingly unnatural view, — or (what is vastly more absurd) that he 
was thus named during his life-time, by a prophetical anticipation, that he would die 
by the halter ! ! ! It is not very uncommon, to be sure, for such charitable prophetic 
inferences to be drawn respecting the character and destinj^ of the graceless, and the 
point of some vulgar proverbs consists in this very allusion, but the utmost stretch of 
such predictions never goes to the degree of fixing upon the hopeful candidate for the 
gallows, a surname drawn from this comfortable anticipation of his destiny. Be- 
sides, it is hard to believe that a man wearing thus, as it were, a halter around his 
neck, would have been called by Jesus into the goodly fellowship of the apostles ; for 
though neither rank, nor wealth, nor education, nor refinement were requisites for 
admission, yet a tolerable good moral character may be fairly presumed to have been 
an indispensable qualification. 

The third derivation is of such a complicated and far-fetched character, that it 
bears its condemnation on its own face. It is that of the learned Tremellius, who at- 
tempts to analyze Iscariot into *oy (seker,) "wages," "reward," and n&3 (natah,) 
" turn away," alluding to the fact that for money he revolted from his Master. This, 
besides its other difficulties, supposes that the name was conferred after his death ; 
whereas he must certainly have needed during his life, some appellative to distin- 
guish him from Judas the brother of James. 

The fourth is that of G-rotius and Erasmus, who derive it from ID^jy KTN (Ish Ts- 
sachar^) "a man of Issachar,"— supposing the name to designate his tribe, just as the 
same phrase occurs in Judges x. 1. But all these distinctions of origin from the ten 
tribes must have been utterly lost in the time of Christ ; nor does any instance occur 
of a Jew of the apostolic age being named from his supposed tribe. 

The fifth is the one suggested and adopted by Lightfoot. In the Talmudic Hebrew, 
the word K^lpD (sekurti,) — also written with an initial ^ (aleph) and pronounced 
Iscurti, — has the meaning of u leather apron ;" and this great Hebraician proposes 
therefore, to translate the name, " Judas with the leather apron ;" and suggests some 
aptness in such a personal appendage, because in such aprons they had pockets or 
bags in which money, &c. might be carried. The whole derivation, however, is 
forced and far-fetched,— doing great violence to the present form of the word, and is 
altogether unworthy of the genius of its inventor, who is usually very acute in ety- 
mologies. 

The sixth is that of Beza, Piscator and Hammond, who make it nmp-BPK {I sh ~ 
Qerioth or Kerioth,) " a man of Kerioth," a city of Judah. (Josh. xv. 25.) Beza says 
that a very ancient MS. of the Greek New Testament, in his possession, (above re- 
ferred to,) in all the five passages in John, where Judas is mentioned, has this sur- 
name written airo Kapiwrov. {apo Cariotou,) u Judas of Kerioth." Lucas Brugensis 
observes, that this form of expression is used in Ezra ii. 22, 23. where the " men of 
Anathoth," &c. are spoken of; but there is no parallelism whatever between the tw T o 
eases ; because in the passage quoted it is a mere general designation of the inhabit- 
ants of a place, — nor can any passage be showm in which it is thus appended to a 
man's name, by way of surname. The peculiarity of Beza's MS. is therefore un- 
doubtedly an unauthorized perversion by some ancient copyist; for it is not found on 
any other ancient authority. 

The motives which led such a man to join himself to the fol- 
lowers of the self-denying Nazarene, of course could not have been 
of a very high order ; yet probably were about as praiseworthy as 
those of any of the followers of Jesus. Not one of the chosen 
disciples of Jesus is mentioned in the solemnly faithful narrative 
of the evangelists, as inspired by a self-denying principle of ac- 
tion. Wherever an occasion appeared on which their true mo- 
tives and feelings could be displayed, they all without exception, 
manifested the most sordid selfishness, and seemed inspired by no 



JUDAS ISCARIQT. 



425 



idea whatever but that of worldly honors, triumphs, and rewards 
to be won in his service ! Peter, indeed, is not very distinctly 
specified as betraying any remarkable regard for his own individ- 
ual interest, and on several occasions manifested, certainly by starts, 
much of a true self-sacrificing devotion to his Master ; yet his 
great views in following Jesus were unquestionably of an ambi- 
tious order, and his noblest conception was that of a worldly tri- 
umph of a Messiah, in which the chosen ones were to have a 
share proportioned no doubt to their exertions for its attainment. 
The two Boanerges betrayed the most determined selfishness, in 
scheming for a lion's share in the spoils of victory ; and the whole 
body of the disciples, on more than one occasion, quarreled among 
themselves about the first places in Christ's kingdom. Judas there- 
fore, was not greatly worse than his fellow-disciples, — no matter 
how bad may have been his motives ; and probably at the begin- 
ning maintained a respectable stand among them, unless occasion 
might have betrayed to them the fact, that he was mean in money 
matters. Bat he, after espousing the fortunes of Jesus, doubtless 
went on scheming for his own advancement, just as the rest did 
for theirs, except that probably, when those of more liberal concep- 
tions were contriving great schemes for the attainment of power, 
honor, fame, titles, and glory, both military and civil, his penny- 
saving soul was reveling in golden dreams, and his thoughts 
running delightedly over the prospects of vast gain to be reaped 
in the confiscation of the property of the wealthy Pharisees and 
lawyers, that would ensue immediately on the establishment of the 
empire of the Nazarene and his Galileans. While the great James 
and his amiable brother were quarreling with the rest of the fra- 
ternity about the premierships, — the highest administration of 
spiritual and temporal power, — -the discreetly calculating Iscariot 
was doubtless expecting the fair results of a regular course of pro- 
motion, from the office of bag-carrier to the strolling company of 
Galileans, to the stately honors and immense emoluments of lord 
high-treasurer of the new kingdom of Israel ; his advancement 
naturally taking place in the line in which he had made his first 
beginning in the service of his Lord, he might well expect that in 
those very particulars where he had shown himself faithful in few 
things, he would be made ruler over many things, when he should 
enter into the joy of his Lord, — sharing the honors and profits of 
His exaltation, as he had borne his part in the toils and anxieties 
of his humble fortunes. The careful management of his little 



42(3 



JUDAS ISCARIOT. 



stewardship, " bearing the bag, and what was put therein," and 
l ' : buying those things that were necessary" for all the wants of the 
brotherhood of Jesus, — was a service of no small importance and 
merit, and certainly would deserve a consideration at the hands of 
his Master. Such a trust also, certainly implied a great confi- 
dence of Jesus in his honesty and discretion in money matters, 
and shows not only the blamelessness of his character in those 
particulars, but the peculiar turn of his genius, in being selected, 
out of the whole twelve, for this veiy responsible and somewhat 
troublesome function. 

Yet the eyes of the Redeemer were by no means closed to the 
baser inclinations of this much-trusted disciple. He knew (for 
what did he not know ?) how short was the step from the steady 
adherence to the practice of a particular virtue, to the most scan- 
dalous breach of honor in that same line of action,— how slight, 
and easy, and natural was the perversion of a truly mean soul, or 
even one of respectable and honorable purposes, from the honest 
pursuit of gain, to the absolute disregard of every circumstance but 
personal advantage, and safety from the punishment of crime, — a 
change insensibly resulting from the total absorption of the soul 
in one solitary object and aim ; for in all such cases, the honesty 
is not the purpose ; it is only an incidental principle, occasionally 
called in to regulate the modes and means of the grand acquisition ; 
— but gain is the great end and essence of such a life, and the 
forgetfulness of every other motive, when occasion suggests, is 
neither unnatural nor surprising. With all this and vastly more 
knowledge, Jesus was well able to discriminate the different states 
of mind in which the course of his discipleship found this calcu- 
lating follower. He doubtless traced from day to day. and from 
week to week, and from month to month, as well as from year to 
year of his weary pilgrimage, the changes of zeal, resolution and 
hope, into distaste and despair, as the day of anticipated reward 
for these sacrifices seemed farther and farther removed, by the pro- 
gress of events. The knowledge too, of the manner in which 
these depraved propensities would at last develope themselves, is 
distinctly expressed in the remark which he made in reply to Pe- 
ter's declaration of the fidelity and devotion of himself and his 
fellow disciples, just after the miracle of feeding the five thousand 
by the lake, when some renounced the service of Christ, disgust- 
ed with the revelations which he there made to them of the spir- 
itual nature of his kingdom, and its rewards, and oJ the difficult 



JUDAS ISCARIOT. 427 

and disagreeable requisites for his discipleship. Jesus seeing the 
sad defection of the worldly, turned to the twelve and said, " Will 
ye also go away ?" Simon Peter, with ever ready zeal replied, 
" Lord ! to whom shall we go but unto thee ? For thou only hast 
the words of eternal life." Jesus answered them, " Have I not 
chosen you twelve, and one of you is an accuser V This reply, 
as John in recording it remarks, alluded to Judas Iscariot, the son 
of Simon ; for he it was that was to betray him, though he was 
one of the twelve. He well knew that on no ear would these 
revelations of the pure spiritualism of his kingdom, and of the 
self-denying character of his service, fall more disagreeably than 
on that of the money-loving steward of the apostolic family, whose 
hopes would be most wofally disappointed by the uncomfortable 
prospects of recompense, and whose thoughts would be henceforth 
contriving the means of extricating himself from all share in this 
hopeless enterprise. Still he did not, like those mal-contents who 
were not numbered among the twelve, openly renounce his disci- 
pleship, and return to the business which he had left for the de- 
ceptive prospect of a profitable reward. He found himself too deep- 
ly committed to do this with advantage, and he therefore discon- 
tentedly continued to follow his great summoner, until an oppor- 
tunity should occur of leaving this undesirable service, with a 
chance of some immediate profit in the exchange. Nor did he 
yet, probably, despair entirely of some more hopeful scheme of 
revolution than was now held up to view. He might occasion- 
ally have been led to hope, that these gloomy announcements were 
but a trial of the constancy of the chosen, and that all things 
would yet turn out as their high expectations had planned. In 
the occasional remarks of Jesus, there was also much, which an 
unspiritual and sordid hearer, might very naturally construe into 
a more comfortable accomplishment of his views, and in which 
such a one would think he found the distinct expression of the 
real purposes of Jesus in reference to the reward of his disciples. 
Such an instance, was the reply made to Peter when he remind- 
ed his Master of the great pecuniary sacrifices which they had all 
made in his service : " Lo ! we have left all, and followed thee." 
The assurances contained in the reply of Jesus, that among other 
things, those who had left houses and lands for his sake, should 
receive a hundred fold more in the day of his triumph, must have 
favorably impressed the baser-minded, with some idea of a real, 
solid return for the seemingly unprofitable investment which they 



428 JUDAS ISCAR10T. 

had made in his scheme. Or, on the other hand, if the faith and 
hope of Iscariot in the word of Jesus were already too far gone to 
be recalled to life by any cheering promises, these sayings may 
have only served to increase his indifference, or to deepen it into 
downright hatred, at what he would regard as a new deceit, de- 
signed to keep up the sinking spirits of those, who had begun to 
apprehend the desperate character of the enterprise in which they 
had involved themselves. If his feelings had then reached this 
point of desperation, the effect of this renewal of promises, which 
he might construe into a support of his original views of the na- 
ture of the rewards accruing to the followers of Christ, on the estab- 
lishment of his kingdom, would only excite and strengthen a deep 
rooted spite against his once-adored Lord, and his malice, working 
in secret over the disappointment, would at last be ready to rise 
on some convenient occasion into active revenge. 

An accuser. — This is the true primary force of Sia^oXog (diabolos) in this passage. 
(John vi. 70.) This word is never applied to any individual in the sense of " devil," 
except to Satan himself; but wherever it occurs as a common substantive appellation, 
descriptive of character, pointedly refers to its primary signification of " accuser," 
" calumniator," " informer," &c, the root of it being diafiaWu, which means "to ac- 
cuse," "to calumniate;" and when applied to Satan, it still preserves this sense, — 
though it then has the force of a proper name ; since fDtP (Satan,) in Hebrew, means 
primarily " accuser" but acquires the force of a proper name, in its ordinary use. 
Grotius however, suggests that in this passage, the word truly corresponds to the He- 
brew *i¥ (tsar,) the word which is applied to Haman, (Esth. vii. 6. viii. 1.) and has 
here the general force of "accuser," "enemy," &c. The context here (verse 71,) 
shows that John referred to this sense, and that Christ applied it to Judas prophetical- 
ly, — thus showing his knowledge of the fact, that this apostle would " accuse" him, 
;and " inform" against him, before the Sanhedrim. Not only Grotius, but Vatablus, 
Erasmus, Lucas Brugensis, and others, maintain this rendering. 

This occasion, before long, presented itself. The successful 
labors of Jesus, in Jerusalem, had raised up against him a com- 
bination of foes of the most determined and. dangerously hostile 
character. The great dignitaries of the nation, uniting in one 
body all the legal, literary and religious honors and influence of 
the Hebrew name, and strengthened too by the weight of the vast 
wealth belonging to them and their immediate supporters, as well 
as by the exaltation of high office and ancient family, had at last 
resolved to use all this immense power, (if less could not effect it,) 
for the ruin of the bold, eloquent man, who, without one of all 
the privileges which were the sources and supports of their pow- 
er, had shaken their ancient dominion to its foundation by his sim- 
ple words, and almost overthrown all their power over the people, 
whose eyes were now beginning to be opened to the mystery of 
:i how little wisdom it took, to govern them !" Self-preservation 



JUDAS ISCARIOT. 429 

seemed to require an instantaneous and energetic action against 
the bold Reformer ; and they were not the men to scruple about 
the means or mode of satisfying both revenge and ambition by his 
destruction. This state of feeling among the aristocracy could 
not have been unknown to Iscariot. He had doubtless watched 
its gradual developments, from day to day, during the displays in 
the temple ; and as defeat followed defeat in the strife of mind, 
he had abundant opportunity to see the hostile feeling of the baf- 
fled and mortified Pharisees, Sadducees, scribes and lawyers, 
mounting to the highest pitch of indignation, and furnishing him 
with the long-desired occasion of making up for his own dis- 
appointment in his great plans for the recompense of his sacri- 
fices, in the cause of Jesus. He saw that there was no chance 
whatever for the triumphant establishment of that kingdom in 
whose honors he had expected to share. All the opportunities 
and means for effecting this result, Jesus was evidently determin- 
ed to throw away, nor could anything ever move him to such an 
effort as was desirable for the gratification of the ambition of his 
disciples. The more splendid and tempting the occasions for 
founding a temporal dominion, the more resolutely did he seem 
to disappoint the golden hopes of his followers ; and, proceeding 
thus, was only exposing himself and them to danger, without 
making any provision for their safety or escape. And where was 
to be the reward of Iscariot's long services in the management of 
the stewardship of the apostolic fraternity ? Had he not left his 
business, to follow them about, laboring in their behalf, managing 
their affairs, procuring the means of subsistence for them, and ex- 
ercising a responsibility which none else was so competent to as- 
sume ? And what recompense had he received ? None, but the 
almost hopeless ruin of his fortunes in a desperate cause. That 
such were the feelings and reflections which his circumstances 
would naturally suggest, is very evident. The signs of the 
alienation of his affections from Jesus, are also seen in the little 
incident recorded by all the evangelists, of the anointing of his 
feet by Mary. She, in deep gratitude to the adored Lord who 
had restored to life her beloved brother, brought, as the offering of 
her fervent love, the box of precious ointment of spikenard, and 
poured it over his feet, anointing them, and wiping them with her 
hair, so that the whole house was filled with the fragrance. 
This beautiful instance of an ardent devotion, that would sacrifice 
everything for its object, awakened no corresponding feeling in 

55 



430 



JUDAS ISCAKIOT. 



the narrow soul of Iscariot ; but seizing this occasion for the man* 
ifestation of his inborn meanness, and his growing spite against 
his Master, he indignantly exclaimed, (veiling his true motive, 
however 3 under the appearance of charitable regard for the poor,) 
" To what purpose is this waste ? Why was not this ointment 
sold for three hundred pence, and given to the poor ?" So spe- 
cious was this honorable pretense for blaming what seemed the 
inconsiderate and extravagant devotion of Mary, that others of 
the disciples joined in the indignant remonstrance against this 
useless squandering of property, which might be converted to the 
valuable purpose of ministering to the necessities of the poor, 
many of whose hearts might have been gladdened by a well-reg- 
ulated expenditure of the price of this costly offering, which was 
now irrecoverably lost. But honorable as may have been the 
motives of those who joined with Iscariot in this protest, the 
apostle John most distinctly insists that he was moved by a far ba- 
ser consideration. " This he said, not because he cared for the 
poor, but because he was a thief, and kept the coffer, and carried 
what was cast into it." This is a most distinct exposition of a 
piece of villainy in the traitor, that would have remained un- 
known, but for the record which John gives of this transaction. 
It is here declared in plain terms, that Iscariot had grossly be- 
trayed the pecuniary trust which had been committed to him on 
the score of his previous honesty, and had been guilty of down- 
right peculation, — converting to his own private purposes, the mo- 
ney which had been deposited with him as the treasurer and 
steward of the whole company of the disciples. He had proba- 
bly made up his mind to this rascally abuse of trust, on the 
ground that he was justified in thus balancing what he had lost 
by his connection with Jesus ; and supposed, no doubt, that the 
ruin of all those whom he was thus cheating, would be effectu- 
ally secured before the act could be found out. What renders 
this crime doubly abominable, is, that it was robbing the poor of 
the generous contributions which, by the kindness of Jesus, had 
been appropriated to their use, out of this little common stock ; 
for it seems that Iscariot was the minister of the common chari- 
ties of the brotherhood, as well as the provider of such things as 
were necessary for their subsistence, and the steward of the com- 
mon property. With the pollution of this base crime upon his 
soul, before stirred up to spite and disgust by disappointed ambi- 
tion, he was now so dead to honor and decency, that he was abuu- 



JUDAS ISCARIOT. 431 

dantly prepared for the commission of the crowning act of vil- 
lainy. The words in which Jesus rebuked his specious concern 
for the economical administration of the money in charity, was 
also in a tone that he might construe into a new ground of offense, 
implying, as it did, that his zeal had some motive far removed 
from a true affection for that Master, whose life was in hourly 
peril, and might any moment be so sacrificed by his foes, that the 
honorable forms of preparation for the burial might be denied ; 
and being thus already devoted to death, he might well accept 
this costly offering of pure devotion, as the mournful unction for 
the grave. In these sadly prophetic words, Judas may have 
found the immediate suggestion of his act of sordid treachery ; 
and incited, moreover, by the repulse which his remonstrance had 
received, he seems to have gone directly about the perpetration of 
the crime. 

The nature and immediate object of this plot may not be per- 
fectly comprehended, without considering minutely the relations 
in which Jesus stood to the Jewish Sanhedrim, and the means 
he had of resisting or evading their efforts for the consummation 
of their schemes and hopes against him. Jesus of Nazareth was, 
to the chief priests, scribes and Pharisees, a dangerous foe. He 
had, during his visits to Jerusalem, in his repeated encounters 
with them in the courts of the temple, and all public places of 
assembly, struck at the very foundation of all their authority and 
power over the people. The Jewish hierarchy was supported by 
the sway of the Romans, indeed, but only because it was in ac- 
cordance with their universal policy of tolerance, to preserve the 
previously established order of things, in all countries which they 
conquered, so long as such a preservation was desired by the peo- 
ple ; but no longer than it was perfectly accordant with the feelings 
of the majority. The Sanhedrim and their dependents therefore 
knew perfectly well that their establishment could receive no sup- 
port from the Roman government, after they had lost their domin- 
ion over the affections of the people ; and were therefore very 
ready to perceive, that if they were to be thus confounded and 
set at nought, in spite of learning and dignity, by a poor Galile- 
an, and even their gravest and most puzzling attacks upon his 
wisdom and prudence, turned into an absolute jest against them, — 
it was quite clear that the amused and delighted multitude would 
soon cease to regard the authority and opinions of their venera- 
ble religious and legal rulers, whose subtleties were so easily foil- 



432 



JUDAS ISCARIOT. 



ed by one of the common, uneducated mass. But the very cir- 
cumstances which effected and constituted the evil, were also the 
grand obstacles to the removal of it. Jesus was by these means 
seated firmly in the love and reverence of the people, — and of the 
vast numbers of strangers then in Jerusalem at the feast, there 
were very many who would have their feelings strongly excited 
in his favor, by the circumstance that they, as well as he, were 
Galileans, and would therefore be very apt to make common 
cause with him in case of any violent attack. All these obstacles 
required management ; and after having been very many times 
foiled in their attempts to seize him, by the resolute determination 
of the thousands by whom he was always encircled, to defend 
him, they found that they must contrive some way to get hold of 
him when he was without the defenses of this admiring: host. 
This could be done, of course, only by following him to his se- 
cret haunts, and coming quietly upon him before the multitude 
could assemble to his aid. But his movements were altogether 
beyond their notice. No armed band could follow him about, as 
he went from the city to the country in his daily and nightly 
walks. They needed some, spy who could watch his private move- 
ments when unattended, save by the little band of the twelve, 
and give notice of the favorable moment for a seizure, when the 
time, the place, and the circumstances, would all conspire to pre- 
vent a rescue. Thus taken, he might be safely lodged in some 
of the impregnable fortresses of the temple and city, so as to defy 
the momentary burst of popular rage, on finding that their idol 
had been taken away. They knew too, the fickle character of 
the commonalty, well enough to feel certain, that when the tide 
of condemnation was once strongly set against the Nazarene, the 
lip-worship of "Hosannas" could be easily turned, by a little man- 
agement, into the ferocious yell of deadly denunciation. The 
mass of the people are always essentially the same in their modes 
of action. Mobs were then managed by the same rules as now, 
and demagogues were equally well versed in the tricks of their 
trade. Besides, when Jesus had once been formally indicted and 
presented before the secular tribunal of the Roman governor, as 
a rioter and seditious person, no thought of a rescue from the mil- 
itary force could be thought of; and however unwilling Pilate 
might be to minister to the wishes of the Jews, in an act of unne- 
cessary cruelty, he could not resist a call thus solemnly made to 
him, in the character of preserver of the Roman sway, though 



JUDAS ISCARIOT. 433 

he would probably have rejected entirely any proposition to seize 
Jesus by a military force, in open clay, in the midst of the multi- 
tude, so as to create a troublesome and bloody tumult, by such an 
imprudent act. In the full consideration of all these difficulties, 
the Jewish dignitaries were sitting in conclave, contriving means 
to effect the settlement of their troubles, by the complete removal 
of him who was unquestionably the cause of all. At once their 
anxious deliberations were happily interrupted by the entrance of 
the trusted steward of the company of Jesus, who changed all 
their doubts and distant hopes into absolute certainty, by offering, 
for a reasonable consideration, to give up Jesus into their hands, 
a prisoner, without any disturbance or riot. How much delay 
and debate there was about terms, it would be hard to say ; but 
after all, the bargain made, does not seem to have been greatly 
to the credit of the liberality of the Sanhedrim, or the sharpness 
of Judas. Thirty of the largest pieces of silver then coined, 
would make but a poor price for such an extraordinary service, 
even making all allowance for a scarcity of money in those times. 
And taking into account the wealth and rank of those concern- 
ed, as well as the importance of the object, it is fair to pronounce 
them a very mean set of fellows. But Judas especially seems to 
forfeit almost all right to the character given him of acuteness in 
money matters ; and it is only by supposing him to be quite car- 
ried out of his usual prudence, by his woful abandonment to 
crime, that so poor a bargain can be made consistent with the 
otherwise reasonable view of his character. 

Thirty^ pieces of silver. — The value of these pieces is seemingly as vaguely ex- 
pressed in the original as in the translation; but a reference to Hebrew usages 
throws some light on the question of definition. The common Hebrew coin thus 
expressed was the shekel, — equivalent to the Greek didrachmon, and worth about 
sixteen cents. In Hebrew the expression, thirty "shekels of silver," was not always 
written out in full ; but the name of the coin being omitted, the expression was al- 
ways equally definite, because no other coin was ever left thus to be implied. 
Just so in English, the phrase, " a million of money," is perfectly well understood 
here, to mean "a million of dollars;" while in England, the current coin of that 
country would make the expression mean so many pounds. In the same manner, to 
say, in this country, that any thing or any man is worth " thousands," always con- 
veys, with perfect definiteness, the idea of " dollars ;" and in every other country the 
same expression would imply a particular coin. Thirty pieces of silver, each of 
which was worth sixteen cents, would amount only to four dollars and eighty cents, 
which are just one pound sterling. A small price for the great Jewish Sanhedrim 
to pay for the ruin of their most dangerous foe ! Yet for this little sum, the Savior 
of the world was bought and sold ! 

Having thus settled this business, the cheaply-purchased traitor 
returned to the unsuspecting fellowship of the apostles, mingling 
with them, as he supposed, without the slightest suspicion on the 



434 JtJDAS IS6ARI0T, 

part of any one, respecting the horrible treachery which he had 
contrived for the bloody ruin of his Lord. But there was ail 
eye, whose power he had never learned, though dwelling beneath 
its gaze for years, — an eye. which saw the vainly hidden results 
of his treachery, even as for years it had scanned the base mo- 
tives which governed him. Yet no word of reproach or denun- 
ciation broke forth from the lips of the betrayed One ; the pro- 
gress of crime was suffered unresistedly to bear him onward to 
the mournfully necessary fulfilment of his destiny. Judas mean- 
while, from day to day, Avaited and watched for the most desira- 
ble opportunity of meeting his engagements with his priestly em- 
ployers. The first day of the feast of unleavened bread having 
arrived, Jesus sat down at evening to eat the Paschal lamb with 
his twelve disciples, alone. The whole twelve were there with- 
out one exception, — and among those who reclined around the 
table, sharing in the social delights of the entertainment which 
celebrated the beginning of the grand national festival, was the 
dark-souled accuser also, like Satan among the sons of God. 
Even here, amid the general joyous hilarity, his great scheme 
of villainy formed the grand theme of his meditations, — and 
while the rest were entering fully into the natural enjoyments of 
the occasion, he was brooding over the best means of executing 
his plans. During the supper, after the performance of the im- 
pressive ceremony of washing their feet, Jesus made a sudden 
transition from the comments with which he was illustrating it ; 
and, in a tone of deep and sorrowful emotion, suddenly exclaim- 
ed, "I solemnly assure you, that one of you will betray me." 
This surprising assertion, so emphatically made, excited the most 
distressful sensations among the little assembly ; — all enjoyment 
was at an end ; and grieved by the imputation, in which all seem- 
ed included until the individual was pointed out, they each ear- 
nestly inquired, " Lord, is it I?" As they sat thus looking in the 
most painful doubt around their lately cheerful circle, the disciple 
who held the place of honor and affection at the table, at the re- 
quest of Peter, whose position gave him less advantage for famil- 
iar and private conversation,- -plainly asked of Jesus, " Who is 
it, Lord ?" Jesus, to make his reply as deliberate and impressive 
as possible, said, " It is he to whom I shall give a sop when I 
have dipped it." The design of all this circumlocution in point- 
ing out the criminal, was, to mark the enormity of the offense. 
" He that eateth bread with me, hath lifted up his heel against 



JUDAS ISCARIOT. 435 

me. 55 It was his familiar friend, his chosen companion, enjoying 
with him at that moment the most intimate social pleasures of the 
entertainment, and occupying one of the places nearest to him, 
at the board. As he promised, after dipping the sop, he gave it 
to Judas Iscariot, who, receiving it, was moved to no change in 
his dark purpose ; but with a new Satanic spirit, resolved imme- 
diately to execute his plan, in spite of this open exposure, which, 
he might think, was meant to shame him from his baseness. Je- 
sus, with an eye still fixed on his most secret inward movements, 
said to him, " What thou doest, do quickly." Judas, utterly lost 
to repentance and to shame, coolly obeyed the direction, as if it 
had been an ordinary command, in the way of his official duty, 
and went out at the words of Jesus. All this, however, was per- 
fectly without meaning, to the wondering disciples, who, not yet 
recovered from their surprise at the very extraordinary announce- 
ment which they had just heard of the expected treachery, could 
not suppose that this quiet movement could have anything to do 
with the occurrence which preceded it ; but concluded that Judas 
was going about the business necessary for the preparation of the 
next day's festal entertainment, — or that he was following the di- 
rections of Jesus about the charity to be administered to the poor 
out of the funds in his keeping, in accordance with the commen- 
dable Hebrew usage of remembering the poor on great occasions 
of enjoyment, — a custom to which, perhaps, the previous words 
of Judas, when he rebuked the waste of the ointment by Mary, 
had some especial reference, since at that particular time, money 
was actually needed for bestowment in alms to the poor. Judas, 
after leaving the place where the declaration of Jesus had made 
him an object of such suspicion and dislike, went, under the in • 
fluence of that evil spirit, to whose direction he was now aban- 
doned, directly to the chief priests, (who were anxiously waiting 
the fulfilment of his promise,) and made known to them that the 
time was now come. The band of watchmen and servants, with 
their swords and cudgels, were accordingly mustered and put un- 
der the guidance of Judas, who, well knowing the place to which 
Jesus would of course go from the feast, conducted his band of 
low assistants across the brook Kedron, to the garden of Geth- 
semane. On the way he arranged with them the sign by which 
they should recognize, in spite of the darkness and confusion, the 
person whose capture was the grand object of this expedition. 
" The man whom I shall kiss is he : seize him." Entering the 



436 JUDAS ISCARIOT. 

garden, at length, he led them straight to the spot which his in- 
timate familiarity with Jesus enabled him to know, as his favorite 
retreat. Going up to him with the air of friendly confidence, he 
saluted him, as if rejoiced to find him, even after this brief ab- 
sence, — another instance of the very close intimacy which had 
existed between the traitor and the betrayed. Jesus submitted to 
this hollow show, without any attempt to repulse the movement 
Which marked him for destruction, only saying, in mild but ex- 
pressive reproach, — " Judas ! Betrayest thou the Son of Man with 
a kiss T Without more delay he announced himself in plain 
terms, to those who came to seize him; thus showing how little 
need there was of artful contrivance in taking one who did not 
seek to escape. " If ye seek Jesus of Nazareth, I am he." The 
simple majesty with which these words were uttered, was such 
as to overawe even the low officials ; and it was not till he him- 
self had again distinctly reminded them of their object, that they 
could execute their errand. So vain was the arrangement of sig- 
nals, which had been studiously made by the careful traitor. 

No further mention is made of Iscariot after the scene of his 
treachery, until the next morning, when Jesus had been condemn- 
ed by the high court of the Sanhedrim, and dragged away to un- 
dergo punishment from the secular power. The sun of another 
day had risen on his crime ; and after a very brief interval, he 
now had time for cool meditation on the nature and consequences 
of his act. Spite and avarice had both now received their full 
gratification. The thirty pieces of silver were his, and the Mas- 
ter whose instructions he had hated for their purity and spiritual- 
ity, because they had made known to him the vileness of his own 
character and motives, was now in the hands of those who were 
impelled, by the darkest passions, to secure his destruction. But 
after all, now came the thought, and inquiry, l what had the pure 
and holy Jesus done, to deserve this reward at his hands V He 
had called him from the sordid pursuits of a common life, to the 
high task of aiding in the regeneration of Israel. He had taught 
him, labored with him, prayed for him, trusted him as a near 
and worthy friend, making him the steward of all the earthly pos- 
sessions of his apostolic family, and the organ of his ministrations 
of charity to the poor. All this he had done without the pros- 
pect of a reward, surely. And why ? To make him an instru- 
ment, not of the base purposes of a low ambition ; — not to acquire 
by this means the sordid and bloody honors of a conqueror,— but to 



JUDAS ISCARIOT. 437 

effect the moral and spiritual emancipation of a people, suffering far 
less under the evils of a foreign sway, than under the debasing do- 
minion of folly and sin. And was this an occasion to arm against 
him the darker feelings of his trusted and loved companions ?— to 
turn the instruments of his mercy into weapons of death ? Ought 
the mere disappointment of a worldly-minded spirit, that was ever 
clinging to the love of material things, and that would not learn 
the solemn truth of the spiritual character of the Messiah's reign, 
now to cause it to vent its regrets at its own errors, in a traitorous 
attack upon the life of him who had called it to a purpose whose 
glories and rewards it could not appreciate ? These and other 
mournful thoughts would naturally rise to the repentant traitor's 
mind, in the awful revulsion of feeling which that morning brought 
with it. But repentance is not atonement ; nor can any change 
of feeling in the mind of the sinner, after the perpetration of the 
sinful act, avail anything for the removal or expiation of the evil 
consequences of it. So vain and unprofitable, both to the injurer 
and the injured, are the tears of remorse ! And herein lay the dif- 
ference between the repentance of Judas and of Peter. The sin 
of Peter affected no one but himself, and was criminal only as the 
manifestation of a base, selfish spirit of deceit, that fell from truth 
through a vain-glorious confidence, — and the effusion of his gush- 
ing tears might prove the means of washing away the pollution of 
such an offense from his soul But the sin of Judas had wrought 
a work of crime whose evil could not be affected by any tardy 
change of feeling in him. Peter's repentance came too late in- 
deed, to exonerate him from guilt ; because all repentance is too 
late for such a purpose, when it comes after the commission of 
the sin. The repentance of an evil purpose, coming in time to 
prevent the execution of the act, is indeed available for good ; but 
both Peter and Judas came to the sense of the heinousness of sin, 
only after its commission. Peter however, had no evil to repair 
for others,— while Judas saw the bloody sequel of his guilt, coming 
with most irrevocable certainty upon the blameless One whom he 
had betrayed. Overwhelmed with vain regrets, he took the now 
hateful, though once-desired price of his villainy, and seeking the 
presence of his purchasers, held out to them the money, with the 
useless confession of the guilt, which was too accordant with their 
schemes and hopes, for them to think of redeeming him from its 
consequences. The words of his confession were, " I have sinned, 
in betraying innocent blood." This late protestation was received 

56 



13S JUDAS 1SCARI0T. 

by the proud priests, with as much regard as might have been 
expected from exulting tyranny, when in the enjoyment of the 
grand object of its efforts. With a cold sneer they replied, ""What 
is that to us ? See thou to that !" Maddened with the immovable 
and remorseless determination of the haughty condemners of the 
just, he flung down the price of his infamy and woe, upon the 
floor of the temple, and rushed out of their presence, to seal his 
crimes and eternal misery by the act that put him for ever be- 
yond the power of redemption. Seeking a place removed 
from the observation of men, he hurried out of the city, and con- 
triving the fatal means of death for himself, before the bloody 
doom of him whom he betrayed had been fulfilled, the wretched 
man saved his eyes the renewed horrors of the sight of the cruci- 
fixion, by closing them in the sleep which earthly sights can not 
disturb. But even in the mode of his death, new circumstances 
of horror occurred. Swinging himself into the air, by falling from 
a highth, as the cord tightened around his neck, checking his de- 
scent, the weight of his body produced the rupture of his abdo- 
men, and his bowels bursting through, made him, as he swung 
stiffening and convulsed in the agonies of this doubly horrid death, 
a disgusting and appalling spectacle, — a monument of the ven- 
geance of God on the traitor, and a shocking witness of his own 
remorse and self-condemnation. 

A very striking difference is noticeable between the account given by Matthew of 
the death of Judas, and that given by Luke in the speech of Peter, Acts i. 18, 19. 
The various modes of reconciling these difficulties are found in the ordinary com- 
mentaries. In respect to a single expression in Acts i. 18, there is an ingenious con- 
jecture offered by Granville Penn, in a very interesting and learned article in the 
first volume of the transactions of the Royal Society of Literature, which ma)' very 
properly be mentioned here, on account of its originality and plausibility, and because 
it is found only in an expensive work, hardly ever seen in this country. Mr. Penn's 
view is, that i; the word ekaKnoe (elakese,) in Acts i. 18, is only an inflection of the Lat- 
in verb, laqueo, (to halter or strangle,) rendered insititious in the Hellenistic Greek, 
under the form Aaitew." He enters into a very elaborate argument, which can not be 
given here, but an extract may be transcribed, in order to enable the learned to ap- 
prehend the nature and force of his views. (Trans. R. S. Lit. Vol. I. P. 2, pp. 51. 52.) 

■• Those who have been in the southern countries of Europe know, that the opera- 
tion in question, as exercised on a criminal, is performed with a great length of cord, 
with which the criminal is precipitated, from a high beam, and is thus violently la-gue- 
ated, or snared in a noose, mid-way — medius or in medio ; utaos, and medius, referring 
to place as well as to person; as, jxtaog Ijjloiv €gtt)kiv. (Joh. i. 26.) ' Considit scopulo 
medius ' (Virg. G. iv. 436.; ' medius prorumpit in hostes. 5 (Aen. x. 379.) 

" Erasmus distinctly perceived this sense in the words vpnws yevo^Eros, although he 
did not discern it in the word eXaicrjcz, which confirms it: '-p;i>7s Graecis dicitur, qui 
vultiL est in terrain dejecto : expressit autem gestum ethabihan laqueo praefocati ; al- 
ioquin, ex hoc sane loco non poterat intelligi. quod Judas suspenderit sc. : (in loc.) 
And so Augustine also had understood those words, as he shows in his Rccit. in Act. 
Apostol. 1. i. col. 47-1. 'et collem sibi alligavit, et deject us in faciem.' &_c. Hence 
one MS., cited by Sabatier, for xptpms ysvofievos. reads aKOKncjianivos: and Jcrom. in his 



JUDAS ISCARIOT. 



439 



new vulgate, has substituted suspensus for the promts /actus of the old Latin version, 
which our old English version of 1542 accordingly renders, and when he was hanged. 

" That which follows, and which evidently determined the vulgar interpretation of 
sXaKtjfft — efrxwdr] iravra to. fffXay^va avrov, all Ms bowels gushed out — states a natural and 
probable effect produced, by the sudden interruption in the fall and violent capture 
in the noose, in a frame of great corpulency and distension, such as Christian anti- 
quity has recorded that of the traitor to have been ; so that a term to express rupture 
would have been altogether unnecessary, and it is therefore equally unnecessary to 
seek for it in the verb eXac^e. Had the historian intended to express disruption, we 
may justly presume that he would have said, as he had already said in his gospel, v. 
6, Sispptiyvvro, or xxiii. 45, eax iffe * I 1 ™ * '■ li is difficult to conceive, that he would here 
have traveled into the language of ancient Greek poetry for a word to express a com- 
mon idea, when he had common terms at hand and in practice ; but he used the Ro- 
man laqueo, Xa/cew, to mark the infamy of the death. 

("Ilprjadsts sin roaovrov rrjv capua, Sure jjltj hvvaaBai Sie'Xduv. Papias, ap. Routh Reliq. 

Sacr. torn. I. p. 9. and Oecumenius, thus rendered by Zegers, Critici Sacri, Act. i. 18, 
in tantum enini corpore injlatus est ut progredi non posset. The tale transmitted by 
those writers of the first and tenth centuries, that Judas was crushed to death by a 
chariot proceeding rapidly, from which his unwieldiness rendered him unable to es- 
cape, merits no further attention, after the authenticated descriptions of the traitor's 
death which, we have here investigated, than to suggest a possibility that the place 
where the suicide was committed might have overhung a public way, and that the 
body falling by its weight might have been traversed, after death, by a passing char- 
iot ; — from whence might have arisen the tales transmitted successively by those wri- 
ters; the first of whom, being an inhabitant of Asia Minor, and therefore far removed 
from the theater of Jerusalem, and being also (as Eusebius witnesses, iii. 39,) a man 
of a very weak mind — c<poSpa /iiKpos rov vow — was liable to be deceived by false ac- 
counts.) 

<£ The words of St. Peter, in the Hellenistic version of St. Luke, will therefore im> 
port, praeceps in ora /usus, laqueavii (i. e. implicuit se laqueo) medius; (i. e. in me- 
dio, inter trabem et terram ;) el effusa sunt omnia, viscera, ejus — throwing himself head- 
long, he caught mid-way in the noose, and all his bowels gushed out. And thus the two 
reporters of the suicide, from whose respective relations charges of disagreement, 
and even of contradiction, have been drawn in consequence of mistaking an insititious 
LaMn word /or a genuine Greek word of corresponding elements, are found, by tracing 
that insititious word to its true origin, to report identically the same fact; the one by a 
single term, the other by a periphrasis" 

Such was the end of the twelfth of Jesus Christ's chosen ones. 
To such an end was the intimate friend, the trusted steward, the 
festal companion of the Savior, brought by the impulse of some 
not very unnatural feelings, excited by occasion, into extraordi- 
nary action. The universal and intense horror which the rela- 
tion of his crime now invariably awakens, is by no means favor- 
able to a just and fair appreciation of his sin and its motives, nor 
to such an honest consideration of his course from rectitude to 
guilt, as is most desirable for the application of the whole story 
to the moral improvement of its readers. Originally not an infa- 
mous man, he was numbered among the twelve as a person of re- 
spectable character, and long held among his fellow-disciples a 
responsible station, which is itself a testimony of his unblemished 
reputation. He was sent forth with them, as one of the heralds 
of salvation to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. He shared 
with them the counsels, the instructions, and the prayers of Jesus. 
If he was stupid in apprehending, and unspiritual in conceiving 



440 



JUDAS ISCARIOT. 



the truths of the gospel, so were they. If he was an unbeliever 
in the resurrection of Jesus, so were they ; and had he survived 
till the accomplishment of that prophecy, he could not have been 
slower in receiving the evidence of the event, than they. As it 
was, he died in his unbelief ; while they lived to feel the glorious 
removal of all their doubts, the purification of all their gross con- 
ceptions, and the effusion of that spirit of truth, through which, 
by the grace of God alone, they afterwards were what they were. 
Without a merit, in faith, beyond Judas, they maintained their 
dim and doubtful adherence to the truth, only by their nearer ap- 
proximation to moral perfection ; and by their nobler freedom 
from the pollution of sordid and spiteful feeling. Through pas- 
sion alone he fell, a victim, not to a want of faith merely, — for 
therein, the rest could hardly claim a superiority, — but to the radi- 
cal deficiency of true love for Jesus, of that " charity which never 
faileth," but " endureth to the end." It was their simple, devoted 
affection, which, through all their ignorance, their grossness of 
conception, and their faithlessness in his word, made them still 
cling to his name and his grave, till the full revelations of his 
resurrection and ascension had displaced their doubts by the most 
glorious certainties, and given their faith an eternal assurance. 
The great cause of the awful ruin of Judas Iscariot, then, was 
the fact, that he did not love Jesus. Herein was his grand dis- 
tinction from all the rest; for though their regard was mingled 
with so much that was base, there was plainly, in all of them, a 
solid foundation of true, deep affection. The most ambitious and 
skeptical of them, gave the most unquestionable proofs of this. 
Peter, John, both the Jameses, and others, are instances of the 
mode in Avhich these seemingly opposite feelings were combined. 
But Judas was without this great refining and elevating principle, 
which so redeemed the most sordid feelings of his fellows. It 
was not merely for the love of money that he was led into this 
horrid crime. The love of four dollars and eighty cents ! Who 
can believe that this was the sole motive ? It was rather that his 
sordidness and selfishness, and ambition, if he had any, lacked 
this single, purifying emotion, which redeemed their characters. Is 
there not, in this reflection, a moral which each Christian reader 
can improve to his own use ? For the lack of the love of Jesus 
alone, Judas fell from his high estate, to an infamy as immortal as 
their fame. Wherever, through all ages, the high heroic energy 
of Peter, the ready faith of Andrew, the martyr-fire of James 



JUDAS ISCARIOT. 441 

Boanerges, the soul-absorbing love of John, the willing obedi- 
ence of Philip, the guileless purity of Nathanael, the recorded 
truth of Matthew, the slow but deep devotion of Thomas, the 
blameless righteousness of James the Just, the appellative zeal of Si- 
mon, and the earnest warning eloquence of Jude, are all commem- 
orated in honor and bright renown, — the murderous, sordid spite 
of Iscariot, will insure him an equally lasting proverbial shame. 
Truly, "the sin of judas is written with a pen of iron 

ON A TABLET OF MARBLE." 



MATTHIAS. 

The events which concern this person's connection with the 
apostolic company, are briefly these. Soon after the ascension of 
Jesus, the eleven disciples being assembled in their " upper room," 
with a large company of believers, making in all, together, a 
meeting of one hundred and twenty, Peter arose and presented 
to their consideration, the propriety and importance of filling, in 
the apostolic college, the vacancy caused by the sad defection of 
Judas Iscariot. Beginning with what seems to be an apt allu- 
sion to the words of David concerning Ahithophel, — (a quotation 
very naturally suggested by the striking similarity between the 
fate of that ancient traitor, and that of the base Iscariot,) he re- 
ferred to the peculiarly horrid circumstances of the death of this 
revolted apostle, and also applied to these occurrences the words 
of the same Psalmist concerning those upon whom he invoked 
the wrath of God, in words which might with remarkable em- 
phasis be made descriptive of the ruin of Judas. " Let his habi- 
tation be desolate," and " let another take his office." Applying 
this last quotation more particularly to the exigency of their cir- 
cumstances, he pronounced it to be in accordance with the will 
of God that they should immediately proceed to select a person 
to " take the office" of Judas. He declared it an essential requi- 
site for this office, moreover, that the person should be one of 
those who, though not numbered with the select twelve, had been 
among the intimate companions of Jesus, and had enjoyed the 
honors and privileges of a familiar discipleship, so that they could 
always testify of his great miracles and divine instructions, from 
their own personal knowledge as eye-witnesses of his actions, from 



442 



MATTHIAS. 



the beginning of his divine career at his baptism by John, to the 
time of his ascension. 

Agreeably to this counsel of the apostolic chief, the whole 
company of the disciples selected two persons from those who 
had been witnesses of the great actions of Christ, and nominated 
them to the apostles, as equally well qualified for the vacant office. 
To decide the question with perfect impartiality, it was resolved, 
in conformity with the common ancient practice in such cases, to 
leave the point between these two candidates to be settled by lot ; 
and to give this mode of decision a solemnity proportioned to the 
importance of the occasion, they first invoked, in prayer, the aid 
of God in the appointment of a person best qualified for his ser- 
vice. They then drew the lots of the two candidates, and Mat- 
thias being thus selected, was thenceforth enrolled with the eleven 
apostles. 

Of his previous history nothing whatever is known, except 
that, according to what is implied in the address of Peter, he must 
have been, from the beginning of Christ's career to his ascension, 
one of his constant attendants and hearers. Some have conjec- 
tured that he was one of the seventy, sent forth by Jesus as apos- 
tles, in the same manner as the twelve had gone ; and there is no- 
thing unreasonable in the supposition ; but still it is a conjecture 
merely, without any fact to support it. The New Testament is 
perfectly silent with respect to both his previous and his subse- 
quent life, and not a fact can be recorded respecting him. Yet the 
productive imaginations of the martyrologists of the Roman and 
Greek churches, have carried him through a protracted series of 
adventures, during his alleged preaching of the gospel, first in Ju- 
dea, and then in Ethiopia. They also pretend that he was mar- 
tyred, though as to the precise mode there is some difference in the 
stories, — some relating that he was crucified, and others, that he 
was first stoned and then dispatched by a blow on the head with an 
axe. But all these are condemned by the discreet writers even of 
the Romish church, and the whole life of Matthias must be inclu- 
ded among those many mysteries which can never be in any way 
brought to light by the most devoted and untiring researches of the 
Apostolic historian ; and this dim and unsatisfactory trace of his 
life may well conclude the first grand division of a work, in which 
the reader will expect to find so much curious detail of matters 
commonly unknown, but which no research nor learning can 
furnish, for the prevention of his disappointment. 



II. THE HELLENIST APOSTLES. 



SAUL, AFTERWARDS NAMED PAUJL. 



HIS COUNTRY. 

On the farthest north-eastern part of the Mediterranean sea, 
where its waters are bounded by the great angle made by the 
meeting of the Syrian coast with the Asian, there is a peculiarity 
in the course of the mountain ranges, which deserves notice in a 
view of the countries of that region, modifying as it does, all their 
most prominent characteristics. The great chain of Taurus, 
which can be traced far eastward in the branching ranges of 
Singara, Masius and Niphates, running connectedly also into the 
distant peaks of mighty Ararat, here sends oif a spur to the shore of 
the Mediterranean, which under the name of Mount Amanus meets 
its waters, just at their great north-eastern angle in the ancient 
gulf of Issus, now called the gulf of Scanderoon. Besides this 
connection with the mountain chains of Mesopotamia and Arme- 
nia on the northeast, from the south the great Syrian Lebanon, 
running very nearly parallel with the eastern shore of the Medi- 
terranean, at the Issic angle, joins this common center of con- 
vergence, so insensibly losing its individual character in the 
Asian ridge, that by many writers. Mount Amanus itself is con- 
sidered only a regular continuation of Lebanon. These, how- 
ever, are as distinct as any of the chains here uniting, and the 
true Libanic mountains cease just at this grand natural division 
of Syria from the northern coast of the Mediterranean. A char- 
acteristic of the Syrian mountains is nevertheless prominent in 
the northern chain. They all take a general course parallel with 
the coast and very near it, occasionally sending out lateral ridges 
which mark the projections of the shore with high promontories. 
Of these, however, there are much fewer on the southern coast 
of Asia Minor ; and the western ridge of Taurus, after parting 
from the grand angle of convergence, runs exactly parallel to the 
margin of the sea, in most parts about seven miles distant, 

57 



446 saul, 

The country thus fenced off by Taurus, along the southern coast 
of Asia Minor, is very distinctly characterized by these circum- 
stances connected with its orography, and is in a very peculiar 
manner bounded and inclosed from the rest of the continent, by 
these natural features. The great mountain barrier of Taurus, 
as above described, stretches along the north, forming a mighty 
wall, which is at each end met at right angles by a lateral ridge, 
of which the eastern is Amanus, descending within a few rods 
of the water, while the western is the true termination of Tau- 
rus in that direction, — the mountains here making a grand curve 
from west to south, and stretching out into the sea, in a bold prom- 
ontory, which definitely marks the farthest western limit of the 
long, narrow section, thus remarkably enclosed. This simple natu- 
ral division, in the apostolic age, contained two principal artificial 
sub-divisions. On the west, was the province of Pamphylia, occu- 
pying about one fourth of the coast ; — and on the east, the rest of 
the territory constituted the province of Cilicia, far-famed as the 
land of the birth of that great apostle of the Gentiles, whose life 
is the theme of these pages. 

Cilicia, — opening on the west into Pamphylia, — is elsewhere 
inclosed in mountain barriers, impenetrable and impassable, ex- 
cept in two or three points, which are the only places in which 
it is accessible by land, though widely exposed, on the sea, by its 
long open coast. Of these two adits, the most important, and 
the one through which the vast proportion of its commercial in- 
tercourse with the world, by land, has always been carried on, is 
the eastern, which is just at the oft-mentioned great angle of the 
Mediterranean, where the mountains descend almost to the wa- 
ters of the gulf of Issus. Mount Amanus, coming from the north- 
east, and stretching along the eastern boundary of Cilicia an im- 
passable barrier, here advances to the shore ; but just before its 
base reaches the water, it abruptly terminates, leaving between the 
high rocks and the sea a narrow space, which is capable of be- 
ing completely commanded and defended from the mountains 
which thus guard it ; and forming the only land passage out of 
Cilicia to the eastern coast of the Mediterranean, it was thence 
anciently called "the gates of Syria." Through these "gates," 
has always passed all the traveling by land between Asia Minor 
and Palestine ; and it is therefore an important point in the most 
celebrated route in apostolic history. The other main opening in 
the mountain wails of this region, is the passage through the 



SAUL. 



447 



M v 



Taurus, made by the course of the Saras, the largest river of the 
province, which breaks through the northern ridge, in a defile that 
is called "the gates of Cilicia." 

The boundaries of Cilicia are then, — on the north, mountain- 
ous Cappadocia, perfectly cut off by the impenetrable chain of 
Taurus, except the narrow pass through " the gates of Cilicia ;" — 
on the east, equally well guarded by Mount Amanus, North- 
ern Syria, the only land passages being through the famed " Syrian 
gates," and another defile north of the coast, toward the Euphra- 
tes ;— on the south, stretches the long margin of the sea, which 
in the western two-thirds of the coast takes the name of " the Ci- 
lician strait," because it here flows between the mainland and the 
great island of Cyprus, which lies off the shore, always in sight, 
being less than thirty miles distant, the eastern third of the coast 
being bounded by the waters of the gulf of Issus ; — and on the 
west Cilicia ends in the rough highlands of Pamphylia. The ter- 
ritory itself is distinguished by natural features, into two divisions, 
— Rocky Cilicia and " Level Cilicia," — the former occupying the 
western third, and the latter the eastern part, — each district being 
abundantly well described by the term applied to it. Within the 
latter, lay the opening scenes of the apostle's life. 

Thus peculiarly guarded, and shut off from the world, it might 
be expected that this remarkable region would nourish, on the nar- 
row plains of its fertile shores, and the vast rough mountains of 
its gigantic barriers, a race strongly marked in mental, as in phys- 
ical characteristics. In all parts of the world, the philosophical 
observer may notice a relation borne by man to the soil on which 
he lives, and to the air which he breathes, — hardly less striking 
than the dependence of the inferior orders of created things, on 
the material objects which surround them. Man is an animal, 
and his natural history displays as many curious correspondences 
between his varying peculiarities and the locality which he in- 
habits, as can be observed between the physical constitution of 
inferior creatures, and the similar circumstances which affect 
them. The inhabitants of a wild, broken region, which rises 
into mighty inland mountains, or sends its cliffs and vallies into 
a vast sea, are, in all ages and climes, characterized by a peculiar 
energy and quickness of mind, which often marks them in histo- 
ry as the prominent actors in events of the highest importance to 
mankind in all the world. Even the dwellers of the cities of 
such regions, share in that peculiar vivacity of their countrymen. 



448 



SAUL. 



which is especially imbibed in the air of the mountains ; and 
carry through all the world, till new local influences have again 
subjected them, the original characteristics of the land of their 
birth. The restless activity and dauntless spirit of Saul, present 
a striking instance of this relation of scenery to character. The 
ever-rolling waters of the tideless sea on one side presenting a 
boundless view, and on the other the blue mountains rearing a 
mighty barrier to the vision, — the thousand streams thence rolling 
to the former, — the white sands of the long plains, gemmed with 
the green of shaded fountains, as well as the active movements of 
a busy population, all living under these same inspiring influences, 
— would each have their effect on the soul of the young Cilician as 
he grew up in the midst of these modifying circumstances. 

Along these shores, from the earliest period of Hellenic coloni- 
zation, Grecian enterprise had planted its busy centers of civiliza- 
tion. On each favorable site, where agriculture or commerce could 
thrive, cities grew up in the midst of prosperous colonies, in which 
wealth and power in their rapid advance brought in the lights of 
science, art, literature, and all the refinements and elegances 
which Grecian colonization made the invariable accompaniments 
of its march, — adorning its solid triumphs with the graceful pol- 
ish of all that could exalt the enjoyment of prosperity. Issus, 
Mopsuestia, Anchialus, Selinus and others, were among the early 
seats of Grecian refinement ; and the more modern efforts of the 
Syro-Macedonian sway, had blessed Cilieia with the fruits of roy- 
al munificence, in such cities as Cragic Antioch, Seleucia the 
Rocky, and Arsinoe ; and in still later times, the ever-active and 
wide-spreading beneficence of Roman dominion, had still farther 
multiplied the peaceful triumphs and trophies of civilization, by 
here raising or renewing cities, of which Baiae, Germanicia and 
Pompeiopolis are only a specimen. But of all these monuments 
of ancient or later refinement, there was none of higher antiquity 
or fame than Tarsus, the city where was born this illustrious 
apostle, whose life was so greatly instrumental in the triumphs of 
Christianity. 

Tarsus stands north of the point of a wide indentation of 
the coast of Cilieia, forming a very open bay, into which, a few 
miles south, flow the waters of the classic Cydnus, a narrow 
stream which runs a brief course from the barrier of Taurus, di- 
rectly southward to the sea. The river's mouth forms a spacious 
and convenient harbor, to which the lis;ht vessels of ancient com- 



SAUL. 



449 



merce all easily found safe and ready access, though most of the 
floating piles in which the productions of the world are now trans- 
ported, might find such a harbor altogether inaccessible to their 
heavier burden. 

Ammianus Marcellinus, the elegant historian of the decline of 
the Roman empire, speaks in high descriptive terms, both of the 
province, and the city which makes it eminent in Christian his- 
tory. In narrating important events here performed during the 
times whose history he records, he alludes to the character of the 
region in a preliminary description. "After surmounting the 
peaks of Taurus, which towards the east rise into higher eleva- 
tion, Cilicia spreads out before the observer, in far stretching areas, 
— a land rich in all good things. To its right (that is the west, as 
the observer looks south from the summits of Taurus) is joined 
Isauria, — in equal degree verdant with palms and many fruits, 
and intersected by the navigable river Calycadnus. This, besides 
many towns, has two cities, — Seleucia, the work of Seleucus Nica- 
tor of Syria, and Claudiopolis, a colony founded by Claudius Cae- 
sar. Isauria however, once exceedingly powerful, has formerly 
been desolated for a destructive rebellion, and therefore shows but 
very few traces of its ancient splendor. But Cilicia, which re- 
joices in the river Cydnus, is ennobled by Tarsus, a splendid 
city, — by Anazarbus, and by Mopsuestia, the dwelling-place of 
that Mopsus, who accompanied the Argonauts. These two prov- 
inces (Isauria or " Cilicia the Rocky," and Cilicia proper or " lev- 
el") being formerly connected with hordes of plunderers in a pi- 
ratical war, were subjugated by the proconsul Servilius, and made 
tributary. And these regions, placed, as it were, on a long tongue 
of land, are separated from the eastern world by Mount Amanus." 

This account by Ammianus Marcellinus is found in book XIV. of his history, (p. 
19, ed. Vales.) 

The native land of Saul was classic ground. Within the lim- 
its of Cilicia, were laid the scenes of some of the most splendid 
passages in early Grecian fable ; and here too, were acted some of 
the grandest events in authentic history, both Greek and Roman. 
The very city of his birth, Tarsus, is said to have been founded by 
Perseus, the son of Jupiter and Danae, famed for his exploit at 
another place on the shore of this part of the Mediterranean. More 
authentic history however, refers its earliest foundation to Sardan- 
apalus, king of Assyria, who built Tarsus and Anchialus in Cilicia, 
nine hundred years before Christ. Its origin is by others ascribed 



450 



SAUL. 



to Triptolemus with an Argive colony, who is represented on 
some medals as the founder. These two stories may be made 
consistent with each other, on the supposition that the same place 
was successively the scene of the civilizing influence of each of 
these attributed founders. So too. may be taken, the legend which 
Ammianus Marcellinus records and approves, — that it was found- 
ed by Sandan, a wealthy and eminent person from Ethiopia, who 
at some early period not specified, is said to have built Tarsus. 
It was however, at the earliest period that is definitely mentioned, 
subject to the Assyrian empire ; and afterwards fell under the do- 
minion of each of the sovranties which succeeded it, passing 
into the hands of the Persian and of Alexander, as each in turn 
assumed the lordship of the eastern world. While under the Per- 
sian sway, it is commemorated by Xenophon as having been hon- 
ored by the presence of the younger Cyrus, when on his march 
through Asia to wrest the empire from his brother. On this occa- 
sion, he entered this region through the northern " gates of Cili- 
cia," and passed out through the " gates of Syria," a passage 
which is, in connection with this event, very minutely described 
by the elegant historian of that famous expedition. 

Sardanapalus. — The fact of the foundation both of Tarsus and Anchialus by this 
splendid but unfortunately extravagant monarch, the last of his line, is commemo- 
rated by Arrian, who refers to the high authority of an inscription which records the 
event. 

" Anchialus is said to have been founded by the king of Assyria, Sardanapalus. 
The fortifications, in their magnitude and extent, still, in Arrian's time, bore the char- 
acter of greatness, which the Assyrians appear singularly to have affected in works 
of the kind. A monument, representing Sardanapalus, was found there, warranted 
by an inscription in Assyrian characters, of course in the old Assyrian language, 
which the Greeks, whether well or ill, interpreted thus : " Sardanapalus, son of An- 
aeyndaraxes, in one day founded Anchialus and Tarsus. Eat, drink, play : all other 
human joys are not worth a fillip." Supposing this version nearly exact, (for Arrian 
says it was not quite so.) whether the purpose has not been to invite to civil order a 
people disposed to turbulence, rather than to recommend immoderate luxury, may 
perhaps reasonably be questioned. What, indeed, could be the object of a king of 
Assyria in founding such towns in a country so distant from his capital, and so di- 
vided from it by an immense extent of sandy desert and lofty mountains, and, still 
more, how the inhabitants could be at once in circumstances to abandon themselves 
to the intemperate joys which their prince has been supposed to have recommended, 
is not obvious ; but it may deserve observation that, in that line of coast, the southern 
of Lesser Asia, ruins of cities, evidently of an age after Alexander, yet barely named 
in historv, at this dav astonish the adventurous traveler by their magnificence and el- 
egance."' (Mitford's Greece, Vol. IX. pp. 311, 312.) 

Over the same route passed the conquering armies of the great 
Alexander. At Issus, within the boundaries of Cilicia, he met, in 
their mightiest array, the vast hosts of Darius, whom here van- 
quishing, he thus decided the destiny of the world. Before this 
great battle, halting to repose at Tarsus, he almost met his death, 



SAUL. 451 

by imprudently bathing in the classic Cydnus, whose waters were 
famed for their extreme coldness. By a remarkable coincidence, 
the next conqueror of the world, Julius Caesar, also rested at Tar- 
sus for some days before his great triumphs in Asia Minor. Cili- 
cia had in the interval between these two visits passed from the 
Macedonian to the Roman dominion, being made a Roman prov- 
ince by Pompey, about sixty years before Christ, at the time when 
all the kingdoms of Asia and Syria were subjugated. After this 
it was visited by Cicero, at the time of his triumphs over the cit- 
ies of eastern Cilicia; and its classic stream is still farther celebrated 
in immortal verse and prose, as the scene where Marcus Antony 
met Cleopatra for the first time. It was the Cydnus, down which 
she sailed in her splendid galley, to meet the conqueror, who for 
her afterwards lost the empire of the world. During all the civil 
wars which desolated the Roman empire through a long course 
of years in that age, Tarsus steadily adhered to the house of Cae- 
sar, first to the great Julius and afterwards to Augustus. So re- 
markable was its attachment and devotion to the cause of Julius, 
that when the assassin Cassius marched through Asia into Syria 
to secure the dominion of the eastern world, he laid siege to Tar- 
sus, and having taken it, laid it waste with the most destructive 
vengeance for its adherence to the fortunes of his murdered lord ; 
and such were its sufferings under these and subsequent calami- 
ties in the same cause, that when Augustus was at last established 
in the undivided empire of the world, he felt himself bound in 
honor and gratitude, to bestow on the faithful citizens of Tarsus 
the most remarkable favors. The city, having at the request of 
its inhabitants received the new name of Jw/iopolis, as a testimo- 
ny of their devotion to the memory of their murdered patron, was 
lavishly honored with almost every privilege which the imperial 
xlugustus could bestow on these most faithful adherents of his 
family. From the terms in which his acts of generosity to them 
are recorded, it has been inferred, — though not therein positively 
stated, — that he conferred on it the rank and title of a Roman col- 
ony, or free city, which must have given all its inhabitants the ex- 
alted privileges of Roman citizens. This assertion has been dis- 
puted however, and forms one of the most interesting topics in the 
life of the great apostle, involving the inquiry as to the mode in 
which he obtained that inviolable privilege, which, on more than 
one occasion, snatched him from the clutches of tyrannical perse- 
cutors. Whether he held this privilege in common with all the 



452 



SAUJ 



citizens of Tarsus, or inherited it as a peculiar honor of his own 
family, is a question yet to be decided. But whatever may have 
been the precise extent of the municipal favors enjoyed by Tarsus, 
it is certain that it was an object of peculiar favor to the imperial 
Caesars during a long succession of years, not only before but af- 
ter the apostle's time, beiiig crowned with repeated acts of munifi- 
cence by Augustus, Adrian, Caracalla and Heliogabalus, so that 
through many centuries it was the most favored city in the eastern 
division of the Roman empire. 

The history of Cilicia since the apostolic age, is briefly this : It remained attached 
to the eastern division of the Roman empire, until about A. D. 800, when it first fell 
under theMuhammedan sway, being made part of the dominion of the Califs by Ha- 
roun Al Rashid. In the thirteenth century it reverted to a Christian government, 
constituting a province of the Armenian kingdom of Leo. About A. D. 1400, it fell 
under the sway of Bajazet II., Sultan of the Ottoman empire, and is at present in- 
cluded in that empire, — most of it in a single Turkish pashalic. under the name of 
Adana. 

Roman citizens. — Witsius very fully discusses this point, as follows. (Witsius in 
Vit. Paul. § 1. IT V.) 

"It is remarkable that though he was of Tarsus, he should say that he was a Roman 
citizen, and that too by the right of 'birth : Acts xxii. 28. There has been some dis- 
cussion whether he enjoyed that privilege in common wiih all the Tarsans, or wheth- 
er it was peculiar to his family. Most interpreters firmly hold the former opinion. 
Beza remarks, " that he calls himself a Roman, not by country, but by right of citi- 
zenship; since Tarsus had the privileges of a Roman colony." He adds, " Mark An- 
tony, the triumvir, presented the Tarsans with the rights of citizens of Rome." Oth- 
ers, without number, bear the same testimony. Baronius goes still farther, — contend- 
ing that "Tarsus obtained from the Romans, the municipal right," that is, the privi- 
leges of free-born citizens of Rome ; understanding Paul's expression in Acts xxi. 39, 
to mean that he was a municeps of Tarsus, or a Tarsan with the freedom of the city 
of Rome. Now the municipal towns, or free cities, had rights superior to those of 
mere colonies ; for the free-citizens were not only called Roman citizens as the colo- 
nists were, but also, as Ulpian records, could share in all the honors and offices of 
Rome. Moreover, the colonies had to live under the laws of the Romans, while the 
municipal towns were allowed to act according their own ancient laws, and country 
usages. To account for the distinction enjoyed by Tarsus, in being called a " muni- 
cipium of Romans," the citizens are said to have merited that honor, for having in 
the civil wars attached themselves first to Julius Caesar, and afterwards to Octavius, 
in whose cause they suffered much. For so attached was this city to the side of Caesar, 
that, as Dion Cassius records, they asked to have their name changed from Tarsus to 
Juliopolis, in memory of Julius and in token of good will to Augustus ; and for that 
reason they were presented with the rights of a colony or a inunicipium, and this gen- 
eral opinion is strengthened by the high testimony of Pliny and Appian. On the 
other hand Heinsius and Grotius strongly urge that these things have been too has- 
tily asserted by the learned ; for scarcely a passage can be found in the ancient wri- 
ters, where Tarsus is called a colon 5 r , or even a municipium. " And how could it be 
a colony," asks Heinsius, " when writers on Roman law acknowledge but two in Ci- 
licia 1 Ulpian \Libcr I. De censibus) says of the Roman colonies in Asia Mi- 
nor, 'there is in Bilhynia the colony of Apamea.— in Pontus, Sinope, — in Cilicia there 
are Selinus andTrajanopolis.' But why does he pass over Tarsus or Juliopolis, if that 
had place among them'?" Baronius proves it to have been a municipium, only from 
the Latin version of Acts, where that word is used; though the term in the original 
Greek (ttoXitt??) means nothing more than the common word, citizen, (as it is rendered 
in the English version.) Plin3 r also calls Tarsus not a colony, nor a municipium, but 
a free city, (libera urbs.) Book V. chap xxvii. Appian in the first book of the civil 
wars, says that Antony granted to the Tarsans freedom, but says nothing of the rights 
of a municipium, or colony. Wherefore Grotius thinks that the only point establish- 
ed is, that some one of the ancestors of Paul, in the civil wars between Augustus 



SAUL. 



453 



Caesar, and Brutus and Cassius, and perhaps those between this Caesar and Antony, 
received the grant of the. privileges of a Roman citizen. Whence he concludes that 
Paul mast have been of an opulent family. These opinions of Grotius have received 
the approval of other eminent commentators. These notions however, must be rejected 
as unsatisfactory; because, though some writers have bat slightly alluded to Tar- 
sus as a free city, yet Dio Chrysostom, {in Tarsica posterior e,) has enlarged upon it 
in a tone of high declamation. " Yours, men of Tarsus, was the fortune to be first in 
this nation, — not only because you dwell in the greatest city of Cilicia, and one which 
was a metropolis from the beginning, — but also because the second Caesar was re- 
markably well-disposed and gracious towards you. For, the misfortunes which be- 
fell the city in his cause, deservedly secured to you his kind regard, and led him to 
make his" benefits to you as conspicuous as the calamities brought upon you for his 
sake. Therefore did Augustus confer on you everything that a man could on friends 
and companions, with a view to outdo those who had shown him so great good- 
will. — your land, laws, honors, the right of the river and of the neighboring sea." 
On which words Heinsius observes in comment, that by land is doubtless meant that 
he secured to them their own territory, free and undisturbed. By laws are meant 
such as relate to the liberty usually granted to free towns. Honor plainly refers to the 
right of citizenship, as the most exalted he could offer. The point then seems to be 
established, if this interpretation holds good, and it is evidently a rational one. For 
when he had made up his mind to grant high favors to a city, in return for such great 
merits, why, when it was in his power, should Augustus fail to grant it the rights of 
Roma-n citizenship, which certainly had been often granted to other cities on much 
slighter grounds 7 It would be strange indeed, if among the exalted honors which 
Dio proclaims, that should not have been included. This appears to be the drift, not 
only of Dio's remarks, but also of Paul's, who offers no other proof of his being a 
Roman citizen, than that he was a Tarsan, and says nothing of it as a special immu- 
nity of his own family, although some such explanation would otherwise have been 
necessary to gain credit to his assertion. Whence it is concluded that it would be rash 
to pretend, contrary to all historical testimony, any peculiar merits of the ancestors of 
Paul, towards the Romans, which caused so great an honor to be conferred on a 
Jewish family." 

But from all these ample and grandiloquent statements of Dio Chrysostom, it by 
no means follows that Tarsus had the privilege of Roman citizenship; and the con- 
clusion of the learned Witsius seems highly illogical. The very fact, that while 
Dio was panegyrizing Tarsus in "these high terms, and recounting all the favors 
which imperial beneficence had showered upou it, he yet did not mention among 
these minutiae, the privilege of citizenship, is quite conclusive against this view; 
for he would not, when thus seeking for all the particulars of its eminence, have 
omitted the greatest honor and advantage which could be conferred on any city by a 
Roman emperor, nor have left it vaguely to be inferred. Besides, there are passages 
in the Acts of the Apostles which seem to be opposed to the view, that Tarsus was 
thus privileged. In Acts xxi. 39, Paul is represented as distinctly stating to the tri- 
bune, that he was " a cilizenoi Tarsus ;" 5 r et in xxii. 24, 25, it is said, that the tribune 
was about proceeding, without scruple, to punish Paul with stripes, and was very 
much surprised indeed, to learn that he was a Roman citizen, and evidently had no 
idea that a citizen of Tarsus was, as a matter of course, endowed with Roman citi- 
zenship; — a fact, however, with which a high Roman officer must have been ac- 
quainted, for there were few cities thus privileged, and Tarsus was a very eminent 
city in a province adjoining Palestine, and not far from the capital of Judea. And 
the subsequent passages of chap. xxii. represent him as very slow indeed to believe it, 
after Paul's distinct assertion. 

Hemsen is very clear and satisfactory on this point, and presents the argument in a 
fair light. See his note in his "Apostel Paulas" on pp. 1,2. He refers also to 
a work not otherwise known here ; — John Ortwm Westenberg's " Dissert, de jurisp. 
Paul. Apost." Kuinoel in Act. Apost. xvi. 37. discusses the question of citizenship. 

" It ought not to seem very strange, that the ancestors of Paul should have settled 
in Cilicia, rather than in the land of Israel. For although Cyrus gave the whole 
people of God an opportunity of return '.rig to their own country, yet many from each 
tribe preferred the new country, in which they had been born and bred, to the old one, 
of which they had lost the remembrance. Hence an immense multitude of Jews 
might be found in almost all the dominions of the Persians, Greeks, Romans and 
Parthians ; as alluded to in Acts ii. 9, 10. But there were also other occasions and 

58 



454 



SAUL, 



causes for the dispersion of the Jews. Ptolemy, the Macedonian king of Egypt, having 
taken Jerusalem from the Syro-Macedonians, led away many from the hill-country 
of Judea, from Samaria and Mount Gerizirn, into Egypt, where he made them set- 
tle ; and after he had given them at Alexandria the rights of citizens in equal privi- 
lege with the Macedonians, not a few of the rest, of their own accord, moved into 
Egypt, allured partly by the richness of the land, and partly by the good will that Ptol- 
emy had shown towards their nation. Afterwards, Antiochus the Great, the Mace- 
donian king of Syria, about the thirtieth year of his reign, two hundred years be- 
fore the Christian era, brought out two thousand Jewish families from Babylonia r 
whom he sent into Phrygia and Lydia with the most ample privileges, that they might 
hold to their duty the minds of the Greeks, who were then inclining to revolt from 
his sway. These were from Asia Minor, spread abroad over the surrounding coun- 
tries, between the Mediterranean sea, the Euphrates and Mount Amanus, on the 
frontiers of Cilicia. Besides, others afterwards, to escape the cruelty of Antiochus 
Epiphanes, betook themselves to foreign lands, where, finding themselves well set- 
tled, they and their descendants remained. Moreover, many, as Philo testifies, for 
the sake of trade, or other advantages, of their own accord left the land of Israel for 
foreign countries : whence almost the whole world was filled with colonies of Jews, as 
we see in the directions of some of the general epistles, (James i. 1 : 1 Peter i. 1.) 
Thus also Tarsus had its share of Jewish inhabitants, among whom were the family 
of Paul." (Witsius in Vit. Paul, § 1. f[ v.) 

Nor were the solid honors of this great Asian city, limited to 
the mere favors of imperial patronage. Founded, or early en- 
larged by the colonial enterprise of the most refined people of an- 
cient times, Tarsus, from its first beginning, shared in the glories 
of Helleno- Asian civilization, under which philosophy, art, taste, 
commerce, and warlike power attained in these colonies a highth 
before unequalled, while Greece, the mother country, was still far 
back in the march of improvement. In the Asian colonies arose 
the first schools of philosophy, and there is hardly a city on the 
eastern coast of the Aegean, but is consecrated by some glorious 
association with the name of some Father of Grecian science. 
Thales, Anaxagoras, Anaximander, and many others of the earli- 
est philosophers, all flourished in these Asian colonies ; and on the 
Mediterranean coast, within Cilicia itself, were the home and 
schools of Aratus and the stoic Chrysippus. The city of Tarsus 
is commemorated by Strabo as having in very early times attain- 
ed great eminence in philosophy and in all sorts of learning, so that 
" in science and art it surpassed the fame even of Athens and Alex- 
andria ; and the citizens of Tarsus themselves were distinguished 
for individual excellence in these elevated pursuits. So great 
was the zeal of the men of that place for philosophy, and for the 
rest of the circle of sciences, that they excelled both Athens and 
Alexandria, and every other place which can be mentioned, where 
there are schools and lectures of philosophers." Not borrowing 
the philosophic glory of their city merely from the numbers of 
strangers who resorted thither to enjoy the advantages of instruc- 
tion there afforded, as is almost universally the case in all the 



satjl. 455 

great seats of modern learning ; but entering themselves with 
zeal and enjoyment into their schools of science, they made the 
name of Tarsus famous throughout the civilized world, for the 
cultivation of knowledge and taste. Even to this day the stran- 
ger pauses with admiration among the still splendid ruins of this 
ancient city, and finds in her arches, columns and walls, and in 
her chance-buried medals, the solid testimonies of her early glo- 
ries in art, taste and wealth. Well then might the great apostle 
recur with patriotic pride to the glories of the city where he was 
born and educated, challenging the regard of his military hearers 
for his native place, by the sententious allusion to it, as " no 

MEAN CITY." 

m " It appears on the testimony of Paul, (Acts xxi. 39,) that Tarsus was a city of no lit- 
tle note, and it is described by other writers as the most illustrious city of all Cilicia; 
so much so indeed, that the Tarsans traced their origin to Ionians and Argives, and 
a rank superior even to these ; — referring their antiquity of origin not merely to he- 
roes, but even to demi-gods. It was truly exalted, not only by its antiquity, situation, 
population and thriving trade, but by the nobler pursuits of science and literature, 
which so flourished there, that according to Strabo it was worthy to be ranked with 
Athens and Alexandria ; and we know that Rome itself owed its most celebrated 
professors to Tarsus. (Witsius. § 1,11 iv.) 

The testimony of Strabo is found in his Geography, book XIV. Cellarius (Geog. 
Ant.) is very full on the geography of Cilicia, and may be advantageously consulted. 
Conder's Modern Traveler (Syria and Asia Minor 2.) gives a very full account of its 
ancient history, its present condition, and its topography. 

The present appearance of this ancient city must be a matter of great inter- 
est to the reader of apostolic history; and it can not be more clearly given than in 
the simple narrative of the enterprising Burckhardt, who wrote his journal on the 
very spot which he describes. (Life of Burckhardt, prefixed to his travels in Nubia, 
pp. xv. xvi.) 

" The road from our anchoring place to Tarsus crosses the above-mentioned plain 
in an easterly direction : we passed several small rivulets which empty themselves 
into the sea, and which, to judge from the size of their beds, swell in the rainy sea- 
son to considerable torrents. We had rode about an hour, when I saw at half an 
hour's distance to the north of our route, the ruins of a large castle, upon a hill of a 
regular shape in the plain ; half an hour further towards Tarsus, at an equal dis- 
tance from our road, upon a second tumulus, were ruins resembling the former ; a 
third insulated hillock, close to which we passed midway of our route, was over- 
grown with grass, without any ruins or traces of them. I did not see in the whole 
plain any other elevations of ground but the three just mentioned. Not far from the 
first ruins, stands in the plain an insulated column. Large groups of trees show from 
afar the site of Tarsus. We passed a small river before we entered the town, larger 
ihan those we, had met on the road. The western outer gate of the town, through 
which we entered, is of ancient structure ; it is a fine arch, the interior vault of which 
is in perfect preservation : on the outside are some remains of a sculptured frieze. I 
did not see any inscriptions. To the right and left of this gateway are seen the an- 
cient ruined walls of the city, which extended in this direction farther than the town 
at present does. From the outer gateway, it is about four hundred paces to the mod- 
ern entrance of the city ; the intermediate ground is filled up by a burying ground on 
one side of the road, and several gardens with some miserable huts on the other. * 
********* The little I saw of Tarsus did not allow me to estimate 
its extent; ihe streets through which I passed were all built of wood, and badly; some 
well furnished bazars, and a large and handsome mosque in the vicinity of the Khan, 
make up the whole register of curiosities which I am able to relate of Tarsus. Upon 
several maps Tarsus is marked as a sea town : this is incorrect ; the sea is above 
three miles distant from it. On our return home, we started in a S.W. direction, and 



456 



SAUL. 



passed, after two hours and a half s march, Casal, a large village, half a mile distanS 
from the sea-shore, called the Fort of Tarsus, because vessels freighted for Tarsus 
usually come to anchor in its neighborhood. From thence turning towards the west, 
we arrived at our ship at the end of two hours. The merchants of Tarsus trade 
principally with the Syrian coast and Cyprus : imperial ships arrive there from time 
to time, to load grain. The land trade is of very little consequence, as the caravans 
from Smyrna arrive very seldom. There is no land communication at all between 
Tarsus and Aleppo, which is at ten journeys (caravan traveling) distant from it. The 
road has been rendered unsafe, especially in later times, by the depredations of Kut- 
shuk Ali, a savage rebel, who has established himself in the mountains to the north 
of Alexandretta. Tarsus is governed by an Aga, who I have reason to believe is 
almost independent. The French have 'an agent there, who is a rich Greek mer- 
chant." 

A fine instance of the value of the testimony of the Fathers on points where know- 
ledge of the Scriptures is involved, is found in the story by Jerome, who says that 
" Paul was born at Gischali, a city of Judea," (in Galilee,) "and that while he was a 
child, his parents, in the time of the la3 T ing waste of their country by the Romans, re- 
moved to Tarsus, in Cilicia." And yet this most learned of the Fathers, the transla- 
tor of the whole Bible into Latin, did not know, it seems, that Paul himself most 
distinctly states in his speech to the Jewish mob, (Acts xxii. 3,) lhat he was " born in 
Cilicia," as the common translation has it; — in Greek, yiytvnpzvQs tv Ki\acia, — words 
which so far from allowing any such assertion as Jerome makes, even imply that 
Paul, with Tristram Shandy-like particularity, would specify that he w T as "begotten 
in Cilicia." Jerome's ridiculous blunder, Witsius, after exposing its inconsistency 
with Jewish history, indignantly condemns, as "a most shameful falsehood," (puti- 
dissima fabula,) which is as hard a name as has been applied to anything in this 
book. 

But if this blunder is so shameful in Jerome, what shall be said of the learned Fa- 
bricius, who (Biblioth. Gr. IV. p. 795,) copies this story from Jerome as authentic his- 
tory, without a note of comment, and without being aware that it most positively con- 
tradicts the direct assertion of Paul 1 And this blunder too is passed over by all the 
great critical commentators of Fabricius, in Harles's great edition. Keil, Kuinoel, 
Harles, Gurlitt, and others equally great, w^ho revised all this, are involved in the 
discredit of the blunder. " Non omnes omnia." 

HIS GRECIAN LEARNING. 

In this splendid seat of knowledge, Saul was born of purely 
Jewish parents. " A Hebrew of the Hebrews," he enjoyed from 
his earliest infancy that minute religious instruction, which every 
Israelite was in conscience bound to give his children ; and with 
a minuteness and attention so much the more careful, as a resi- 
dence in a foreign land, far away from the consecrated soil of 
Palestine and the Holy city of his faith, might increase the liabil- 
ities of his children to forget or neglect a religion of which they 
saw so few visible tokens around them, to keep alive their devo- 
tion. Yet, though thus strictly educated in the religion of his 
fathers, Saul was by no means cut off by this circumstance from 
the enjoyment of many of the advantages in profaner knowledge, 
afforded in such an eminent degree by Tarsus ; but must, almost 
without an effort, have daily imbibed into his ready and ever act- 
ive mind, much of the refining influence of Grecian philosophy. 
There is no proof, indeed, that he ever formally entered the schools 
of heathen science ; such a supposition, is, perhaps, inconsistent 



saul. 457 

with the idea of his principles of rigid Judaism, and is rendered 
rather improbable by the great want of Grecian elegance and 
accuracy in his writings ; which are so decidedly characterized by 
an unrhetorical style, and by irregular logic, that they never could 
have been the production of a scholar, in the most eminent phi- 
losophical institutions of Asia. But a mere birth and residence 
in such a city, and the incidental but constant familiarity with 
those so absorbed in these pursuits, as very many of his fellow- 
citizens were, would have the unavoidable effect of familiarizing 
him also with the great subjects of conversation, and the grand 
objects of pursuit, so as ever after to prove an advantage to him 
in his intercourse with the refined and educated among the Greeks 
and Romans. The knowledge thus acquired, too, is ever found 
to be of the most readily available kind, always suggesting itself 
upon occasions when needed, according to the simple principle of 
association, and thus more easily applied to ordinary use than that 
which is more regularly attained, and is arranged in the mind 
only according to formal systems. Thus was it, with most evi- 
dent wisdom, ordained by God, that in this great seat of heathen 
learning, that apostle should be born, who was to be the first mes- 
senger of grace to the Grecian world, and whose words of warn- 
ing, even Rome should one day hear and believe. 

HIS FAMILY AND BIRTH. 

The parents of Saul were Jews, and his father at least, was of 
the tribe of Benjamin. In some of those numerous emigrations 
from Judea which took place either by compulsion or by the vol- 
untary enterprise of the people, at various times after the Assyrian 
conquest, the ancestors of Saul had left their father-land, for the 
fertile plains of Cilicia, where, under the patronizing government 
of some of the Syro-Macedonian kings, they found a much more 
profitable home than in the comparatively uncommercial land of 
Israel. On some one of these occasions, probably during the em- 
igration under Antiochus the Great, the ^ancestors of Saul had set- 
tled in Tarsus, and during the period intervening between this 
emigration and the birth of Saul, the family seems to have 
maintained or acquired a very respectable rank, and some proper- 
ty. From the distinct information which we have that Saul was 
a iree-horn Roman citizen, it is manifest that his parents must also 
have possessed that right ; for it has already been abundantly 
shown that it was not common to the citizens of Tarsus, but must 
have been a peculiar privilege of his family. After the sub- 



458 



SAUL. 



jugation of Cilicia, (sixty-two years before Christ,) when the 
province passed from the Syrian to the Roman sway, the family 
were in some way brought under the favorable notice of the new 
lords of the eastern world, and were honored with the high priv- 
ilege of Roman citizenship, an honor which could not have been 
imparted to any one low either in birth or wealth. The precise 
nature of the service performed by them, that produced such a 
magnificent reward, it is impossible to determine ; but that this 
must have been the reason, it is very natural to suppose. But 
whatever may have been the extent of the favors enjoyed by the 
parents of Saul, from the kindness of their heathen rulers, they 
were not thereby led to neglect the institutions of their fathers, — ■ 
but even in a strange land, observed the Mosaic law with peculiar 
strictness ; for Saul himself plainly asserts that his father was a 
Pharisee, and therefore he must have been bound by the rigid ob- 
servances of that sect, to a blameless deportment, as far as the 
Mosaic law required. Born of such parents, the destined apostle 
at his birth was made the subject of the minute Mosaic rituals. 
" Circumcised the eighth day," he then received the name of 
Saul, a name connected with some glorious and some mournful 
associations in the ancient Jewish history, and probably suggest- 
ed to the parents on this occasion, by a reference to its significa- 
tion, for Hebrew names were often thus applied, expressing some 
circumstance connected with the child ; and in this name more 
particularly, some such meaning might be expected, since, histor- 
ically, it must have been a word of rather evil omen. The origin- 
al Hebrew means " desired" " asked for," and hence it has been 
rather fancifully, but not unreasonably conjectured that he was an 
oldest son, and particularly desired by his expecting parents, who 
were, like the whole Jewish race, very earnest to have a son to 
perpetuate their name, — a wish however, by no means peculiar to 
the Israelites. 

The name Saul is in Hebrew, Sl*ttV the regular noun from the passive Kal parti- 
ciple of Satf (sha-al and sha-el) " ask for," " beg," " lequest ;" and the name there- 
fore means " asked for," or " requested," which affords ground for Neander's curious 
conjecture, above given. 

Of the time of his birth nothing is definitely known, though it 
is stated by some ancient authority of very doubtful character, that 
he was born in the second year after Christ. All that can be said 
with any probability, is, that he was born several years after Christ ; 
for at the time of the stoning of Stephen, (A. D. 34,) Saul was a 
"young man." 



SAUL. 



459 



HIS TRADE. 

There was an ancient Jewish proverb,— often quoted with 
great respect in the Rabbinical writings, — "He that does not 
teach his son a trade, trains him to steal." In conformity with 
this respectable adage, every Jewish boy, high or low, was inva- 
riably taught some mechanical trade, as an essential part of his 
education, without any regard to the wealth of his family, or to 
his prospect of an easy life, without the necessity of labor. The 
consequence of this was, that even the dignified teachers of the 
law generally conjoined the practice of some mechanical business, 
with the refined studies to which they devoted the most of their 
time, and the surnames of some of the most eminent of the Rab- 
bins are derived from the trades which they thus followed in the 
intervals of study, for a livelihood or for mental relaxation. The 
advantages of such a variation from intense mental labor to act- 
ive and steady bodily exercise, are too obvious, both as concerns 
the benefit of the body and the mind, to need any elucidation ; 
but it is a happy coincidence, worth noticing, that, the better prin- 
ciples of what is now called "Manual Labor Instruction," are 
herein fully carried out, and sanctioned by the authority and ex- 
ample of some of the most illustrious of those ancient Hebrew 
scholars, whose mighty labors in sacred lore, are still a monu- 
ment of the wisdom of a plan of education, which combines bodily 
activity and exertion with the full development of the powers of 
thought. The labors of such men still remain the wonder of 
later days, and form in themselves, subjects for the excursive and 
penetrating range of some of the greatest minds of modern times, 
throwing more light on the minute signification and local appli- 
cation of scripture, than all that has been done in any other field 
of illustrative research. 

" In the education of their son, the parents of Saul thought it their duty according to 
the fashion of their nation, not only to train his mind in the higher pursuits of a lib- 
eral education, but also to accustom his hands to some useful trade. As we learn 
from Acts xviii. 3, " he was by trade a tent-maker," occupying the intervals of his 
study-hours with that kind of work. For it is well established that this was the usual 
habit of the most eminent Jewish scholars, who adopted it as much for the sake of 
avoiding sloth and idleness, as with a view to provide for their own support. The 
Jews used to sum up the duties of parents in a sort of proverb, that " they should cir- 
cumcise their son, redeem him, (Leviticus chapter xxvii.) teach him the law and a 
trade, and look out a wife for him." And indeed the importance of some business of 
this kind was so much felt, that a saying is recorded of one of the most eminent of their 
Rabbins, that " he who neglects to teach his son a trade, does the same as to bring 
him up to be a thief." Hence it is that the wisest Hebrews held it an honor to take 
their surnames from their trades ; as Rabbins Nahum and Meir, the scriveners or book 
writers," (a business corresponding to that of printers in these times,) " Rabbi Joha- 
nan the shoemaker , Rabbi Juda the baker, and Rabbi Jose the currier or tanner. How 



460 



SAUL. 



trifling then is the sneer of some scoffers who have said that Paul was nothing but a 
stitcher of skins, and thence conclude that he was a man of the lowest class of the 
populace." (Witsius § I. IT 12.) 

The trade which the parents of Saul selected for their son, is 
described in the sacred apostolic history as that of a u tent-maker." 
A reference to the local history of his native province throws great 
light on this account. In the wild mountains of Cilicia, which 
everywhere begin to rise from the plains, at a distance of seven 
or eight miles from the coast, anciently ranged a peculiar species 
of long-haired goats, so well known by name throughout the Gre- 
cian world, for their rough and shaggy aspect, that the name of 
" Cilician goat" became a proverbial expression, to signify a rough, 
ill-bred fellow, and occurs in this sense in the classic writers. 
From the hair of these, the Cilicians manufactured a thick, coarse 
cloth, — somewhat resembling the similar product of "the camel's 
hair, — which, from the country where the cloth was made, and 
where the raw material was produced, was called cilicium or ci- 
licia, and under this name it is very often mentioned, both by 
Grecian and Roman authors. The peculiar strength and incor- 
ruptibility of this cloth was so well known, that it was consider- 
ed as one of the most desirable articles for several very important 
purposes, both in war and navigation, being the best material for 
the sails of vessels, as well as for military tents. But it was prin- 
cipally used by the Nomadic Arabs of the neighboring deserts of 
Syria, who, ranging from Amanus and the sea, to the Euphrates, 
and beyond, found the tents manufactured from this stout cloth, so 
durable and convenient, that they depended on the Cilicians to 
furnish them with the material of their moveable homes ; and 
over all the east, the cilicium was in great demand, for shepherd's 
tents. A passage from Pliny forms a splendid illustration of this 
interesting little point. " The wandering tribes, (Nomades,) and 
ihe tribes who plunder the Chaldeans, are bordered by Scenites, 
(tent-dwellers,) who are themselves also wanderers, but take their 
name from their tents, which they raise of Cilician cloth, wherev- 
er inclination leads them." This was therefore an article of 
national industry among the Cilicians, and afforded in its manu- 
facture, profitable employment to a great number of workmen, 
who were occupied, not in large establishments like the great 
manufactories of modern European nations, but, according to the 
invariable mode in eastern countries, each one by himself, or at 
most with one or two companions. Saul, however, seems to have 



SAUL. 



461 



been occupied only with the concluding part of the manufacture, 
which was the making up of the cloth into the articles for which 
it was so well fitted by its strength, closeness and durability. He 
was a maker of tents of Cilician camlet, or goat's-hair cloth, — a 
business which, in its character and implements, more resembled 
that of a sail-maker than any other common trade in this country. 
The details of the work must have consisted in cutting the cam- 
let of the shape required for each part of the tent, and sewing it 
together into the # large pieces, which were then ready to be trans- 
ported, and to form, when hung on tent-poles, the habitations of 
the desert-wanderers. 

This illustration of Saul's trade is from Hug's Introduction, Vol. II. note on § 85, 
pp. 328, 329, original, § 80, pp. 335, 336, translation. On the manufacture of this 
cloth, see Gloss. Basil, sub voc. KCkimos Tpayas, &c. " Cilician goat, — a rough fellow ;— 
for there are such goats in Cilicia ; whence also, things made of their hair are call- 
ed cilicia.'" He quotes also Hesychius, Suidas, and Salmasius in Solinum, p. 347. 
As to the use of the cloths in war and navigation, he refers to Vegetius, De re milit. 
IV. 6, and Servius in Georgica III. 312.— The passage in Pliny, showing their use 
by the Nomadic tribes of Syria and Mesopotamia for shepherd's tents, is in his Nat. 
Hist., VI. 28. " Nomadas infestatoresque Chaldaeorum, Scenitae claudunt, et ipsi 
vagi, sed a tabernaculis cognominati quae ciltciis metantur, ubi libuit." The read- 
ing of this passage which I have adopted is from the Leyden Hackian edition of 
Pliny, which differs slightly from that followed by Hug, as the critical will perceive. 
Hemsen quotes this note almost verbatim from Hug. (Hemsen's " Apostel Paulus," 
page 4.) 

The particular species or variety of goat, which is thus described as anciently in- 
habiting the mountains of Cilicia, can not now be distinctly ascertained, because no 
scientific traveler has ever made observations on the animals of that region, owing 
to the many difficulties in the way of any exploration of Asia Minor, under the bar- 
barous Ottoman sway. Neither Griffith's Cuvier nor Turton's Linnaeus contains 
any reference to Cilicia, as inhabited by any species or variety of the genus Co- 
pra. The nearest approach to certainty, that can be made with so few data, is the 
reasonable conjecture that the Cilician goat was a variety of the species Capra Aega- 
grus, to which the common domestic goat belongs, and which includes several re- 
markable varieties, — at least six being well ascertained. There are few of my read- 
ers, probably, who are not familiar with the descriptions and pictures of the famous 
Angora goat, which is one of these varieties, and is well-known for its long, soft, silky 
hair, which is to this day used in the manufacture of a sort of camlet, in the place 
where it is found, which is Angora and the region around it, from the Halys to 
the Sangarius. This tract of country is in Asia Minor, only three or four hun- 
dred miles north of Cilicia, and therefore at once suggests the probability of the Ci- 
lician goat being something very much like the Angora goat. (See Mod. Trav. III. 
p. 339.) On the other side of Cilicia also, in Syria, there is an equally remarkable va- 
riety of the goat, with similar long, silky hair, used for the same manufacture. Now 
Cilicia, being directly on the shortest route from Angora to Syria, and half-way be- 
tween both, might very naturally be. supposed to have another variety of the Capra 
Aegagrus, between the Angoran and the Syrian variety, and resembling both in the 
common characteristic of long shaggy or silky hair ; and there can be no reasona- 
ble doubt that future scientific observation will show that the Cilician goat forms an- 
other well-marked variety of this widely diffused species, Avhich, wherever it inhab- 
its the mountains of the warm regions of Asia, always furnishes this beautiful pro- 
duct, of which we have another splendid and familiar specimen in the Tibet and 
Cashmere goats, whose fleeces are worth more than their weight in gold. The hair 
of the Syrian and Cilician goats, however, is of a much coarser character, producing 
a much coarser and stouter fibre for the cloth. 

On the subject of Paul's trade, the learned and usually accurate Michaelis was led 
into a very great error, by taking up too hastily a conjecture founded on a misappre- 

59 



462 saul, 

hension of the meaning given by Julius Pollux, in his Onornasticon, on ihe word 
oktjvottoios, {skenopoios,') which is the word used in Acts xiii. 3, to designate the trade 
of Saul and Aquilas. Pollux mentions that in the language of the old Grecian com- 
edy, oktjvoxoios was equivalent to ^^avos-otos, (mecha?wpoios,') which Michaelis very 
erroneously takes in the sense of" a maker of mechanical instruments," and this he 
therefore maintains to have been the trade of Saul and Aquilas. But it is capable 
of the most satisfactory proof, that Julius Pollux used the words here merely in the 
technical sense of theatrical preparation, — the first meaning simply " a scene-ma- 
ker," and the second " a constructor of theatrical machinery," — both terms, of course, 
naturally applied to ihe same artist. (Mich. Int. IV. xxiii. 2. pp, 183—186. Marsh's 
translation. — Hug, II. § So. Grig. § 80, trans.) 

The Fathers also made similar blunders about the nature of Saul's trade. They 
call him vkvtotohos, (skutotomos,) " a skin-cutter," as well as cKTjvoppatpos, " a tent-ma- 
ker." This was because they were entirely ignorant of the material used for the 
manufacture of tents ; for. living themselves in the civilized regions of Greece, Italy, 
&c. they knew nothing of the habitations of the Nomadic tent-dwellers. Chrysostom 
in particular, calls him " one who worked in skins." 

Fabricius gives some valuable illustrations of this point. (Biblioth. Gr. IV. p. 795, 
hi.) He quotes Cotelerius, (ad. Apost. Const, II. 63.) Erasmus, &c. (ad Act. xviii. 3.) 
and Schurzfleisch, (in diss, de Paulo, &c.) who brings sundry passages from Dio Chry- 
sostom and Libanius, to prove that there were many in Cilicia who worked in leather , 
as he says ; in support of which he quotes Martial, (epig. xiv. 114,; alluding to "udo- 
nes cilicii" or " cilician cloaks" (used to keep off rain, as water-proof,) — not know- 
ing that this word, cilicium, was the name of a very close and stout cloth, from the 
goat's hair, equally valuable as a covering for a single person, and for the habitation 
of a whole family. In short, Martial's passage >hows that the Cilician camlet was 
used like the modern camlet, — for cloaks. Fabricius himself seems to make no ac- 
count of this leather notion of Schurzfleisch ; for immediately after, he states (what 
I can not find on any other authority) that "even at this day, as late books of travels 
testify, variegated cloths are exported from Cilicia." This is certainly true of Ango- 
ra in* Asia Minor, north-west of Cilicia, (Mod. Trav. III. p. 339,) and may be true of 
Cilicia itself. Fabricius notices 2 Cor. v. 1 : and xii. 9, as containing figures drawn; 
from Saul's trade. 

HIS EDUCATION. 

But this was not destined to be the most important occupation 
of Saul's life. Even his parents had nobler objects in view for 
him, and evidently devoted him to this handicraft, only in con- 
formity with those ancient Jewish usages which had the force of 
law on every true Israelite, whether rich or poor ; and according- 
ly he was sent, while yet in his youth, away from his home in 
Tarsus, to Jerusalem, the fountain of religious and legal know- 
ledge to all the race of Judah and Benjamin, throughout the world. 
To what extent his general education had been carried in Tarsus, 
is little known ; but he had acquired that fluency in the Greek, 
which is displayed in his writings, though contaminated with ma- 
ny of the provincialisms of Cilicia, and more especially with the 
barbarisms of Hebrew usage. Living in daily intercourse, both 
in the way of business and friendship, with the active Grecians 
of that thriving city, and led, no doubt, by his own intellectual 
character and tastes, to the occasional cultivation of those classics 
which were the delight of his Gentile acquaintances, he acquired 
a readiness and power in the use of the Greek language, and a 



saul. 463 

familiarity with the favorite writers of the Asian Hellenes, that 
in the providence of God most eminently fitted him for the sphere 
to which he was afterwards devoted, and was the true ground of 
his wonderful acceptability to the highly literary people among 
whom his greatest and most successful labors were performed, and 
to whom all of his epistles, but two, were written. All these wri- 
tings show proofs of such an acquaintance with Greek, as is here in- 
ferred from his opportunities in education. His well-known quota- 
tions also from Menander and Epimenides, and more especially 
his happy impromptu reference in his discourse at Athens, to the 
line from his own fellow-Cilician, Aratus, are instances of a very 
great familiarity with the classics, and are thrown out in such an 
unstudied, off-hand way, as to imply a ready knowledge of these 
writers. But all these were, no doubt, learned in the mere occa- 
sional manner already alluded to in connection with the reputa- 
tion and literary character of Tarsus. He was devoted by all the 
considerations of ancestral pride and religious zeal to the study of 
a a classic, the best the world has ever seen, — the noblest that has 
ever honored and dignified the language of mortals." 

HIS REMOVAL TO JERUSALEM. 

Strabo, in speaking of the remarkable literary and philosophic- 
al zeal of the refined inhabitants of Tarsus, says that " after having 
well laid the foundations of literature and science in their own 
schools at home, it was usual for them to resort to those in other 
places, in order to zealously pursue the cultivation of their minds 
still further," by the varied modes and opportunities presented in 
different schools throughout the Hellenic world, — a noble spirit of 
literary enterprise, accordant with the practice of the most ancient 
philosophers, and like the course also pursued by the modern Ger- 
man scholars, many of whom go from one university to another, 
to enjoy the peculiar advantages afforded by each in some partic- 
ular department. It was therefore, only in a noble emulation of 
the example of his heathen fellow-townsmen, in the pursuit of pro- 
fane knowledge, that Saul left the city of his birth and his father's 
house, to seek a deeper knowledge of the sacred sources of He- 
brew learning, in the capital of the faith. This removal to so 
great a distance, for such a purpose, evidently implies the posses- 
sion of considerable wealth in the family of Saul ; for a literary 
sojourn of that kind, in a great city, could not but be attended with 
very considerable expense as well as trouble. 



464 



SAUL. 



HIS TEACHER. 

Saul having been thus endowed with a liberal education at 
home, and with the principles of the Jewish faith, as far as his 
age would allow, — went up to Jerusalem to enjoy the instruction 
of Gamaliel. There is every reason to believe that this was Ga- 
maliel the elder, grandson of Hillel, and son of Simeon, (proba- 
bly the same, who, in his old age, took the child Jesus in his 
arms,) and father of another Simeon, in whose time the temple 
was destroyed ; for the Rabbinical writings give a minute account 
of him, as connected with all these persons. This Gamaliel suc- 
ceeded his ancestors in the rank which was then esteemed the 
highest ; this was the office of " head of the college," otherwise 
called "Prince of the Jewish senate." Out of respect to this 
most eminent Father of Hebrew learning, as it is recorded, Onke- 
los, the renowned Chaldee paraphrast, burned at his funeral, seven- 
ty pounds of incense, in honor to the high rank and learning of 
the deceased. This eminent teacher was at first not ill-disposed to- 
wards the apostles, who, he thought, ought to be left to their own 
fate ; being led to this moderate and reasonable course, perhaps, by 
the circumstance that the Sadducees, whom he hated, were most 
active in their persecution. The sound sense and humane wis- 
dom that mark his sagely eloquent opinion, so wonderful in that 
bloody time, have justly secured him the admiration and respect 
of all Christian readers of the record ; and not without regret 
would they learn, that the after doings of his life, unrecorded by 
the sacred historian, yet on the testimony of others, bear witness 
against him as having changed from this wise principle of action. 
If there is any ground for the story which Maimonides tells, it 
would seem, that when Gamaliel saw the new heretical sect mul- 
tiplying in his own days, and drawing away the Israelites from 
the Mosaic forms, he, together with the Senate, whose President 
he was, gave his utmost endeavors to crush the followers of Christ, 
and composed a form of prayer, by which God was besought to 
exterminate these heretics ; which was to be connected to the 
usual forms of prayer in the Jewish liturgy. This story of Mai- 
monides, if it is adopted as true, on so slight grounds, may be 
reconciled with the account given by Luke, in two ways. First, 
Gamaliel may have thought that the apostles and their successors, 
although heretics, were not to be put down by human force, or by 
the contrivances of human ingenuity, but that the whole matter 
should be left to the hidden providence of God, and that their 



SAUL, 



465 



extermination should be obtained from God by prayers. Or, sec- 
ond, — to make a more simple and rational supposition,-— he may 
have been so struck by the boldness of the apostles, and by the 
evidence of the miracle performed by them, as to express a mild- 
er opinion on them at that particular moment; but afterwards may 
have formed a harsher judgment, when, contrary to all expectation, 
he saw the wonderful growth of Christianity, and heard with 
wrath and uncontrollable indignation, the stern rebuke of Ste- 
phen. But these loose relics of tradition, offered on such very suspi- 
cious authority as that of a Jew of the ages when Christianity had 
become so odious to Judaism by its triumphs, may without hesi- 
tation be rejected as wholly inconsistent with the noble spirit of 
Gamaliel, as expressed in the clear, impartial account of Luke ; 
and both of the suppositions here offered by others, to reconcile 
sacred truth with mere falsehood, are thus rendered entirely un- 
necessary. 

At the feet of this Gamaliel, then, was Saul brought up. (Acts xxii. 3.) It has 
been observed on this passage, by learned commentators, that this expression refers to 
the fashion followed by students, of sitting and lying down on the ground or on mats,, 
at the feet of their teacher, who sat by himself on a higher place. And indeed so 
many are the traces of this fashion among the recorded labors of the Hebrews, that 
it does not seem possible to call it in question. The labors of Scaliger in his " Elen- 
chusTrihaeresii," have brought to light many illustrations of the point ; besides which 
another is offered in a well-known passage from riDX "'DID Pirke Aboth, or "Frag- 
ments of the Fathers." Speaking of the wise, it is said, " Make thyself dusty in the dust 
of their feet,"— DiT^-H 13J.O p^^DQ ' l )T\— meaning that the young student is to be a 

diligent hearer at the feet of the wise; — thus raising a truly "learned dust," if the 
figure may be so minutely carried out. The same thing is farther illustrated by a 
passage which Buxtorf has given in his Lexicon of the Talmud, in the portion en- 
titled m:rD (Berachoth,) D^^n 'mhn *ya p mawh p^nn p dj-u ym 

" Take away your sons from the study of the Bible, and make them sit between 
the knees of the disciples of the wise;" which is equivalent to a recommenda- 
tion of oral, as superior to written instruction. The same principle, of varying the 
mode in which the mind receives knowledge, is recognized in modern systems of ed- 
ucation, w r ith a view to avoid the self-conceit and intolerant pride which solitary stu- 
dy is apt to engender, as well as because, from the living voice of the teacher, the 
young scholar learns in that practical, simple mode which is most valuable and effi- 
cient, as it is that, in which alone all his knowledge of the living and speaking world 
must be obtained. It should be observed, however, that Buxtorf seems to have un- 
derstood this passage rather differently from Witsius, whose construction is followed 
in fhe translation given above. Buxtorf, following the ordinary meaning of fvjn 
(heg-yon,) seems to prefer the sense of " meditation." He rejects the common trans- 
lation— "study of the Bible," as altogether irreligious. "In hoc sensu, praeceptum 
impium est." He says that other Glosses of the passage give it the meaning of " boyish 
talk," (garritu puerorum.) But this is a sense perfectly contradictory to all usage of 
the word, and was evidently indented only to avoid the seemingly irreligious char- 
acter of the literal version. . But why may not all difficulties be removed by a refer- 
ence to the primary signification, which is " solitary meditation," in opposition to 
" instruction by others V 

"We have in the gospel history itself, also, the instance of Mary. (Luke x. 39.) The 
passage in Mark iii. 32, " The multitude sat down around him " farther illustrates 



460 



SAUL. 



this usage. There is an old Hebrew tradition, mentioned with great reverence by 
Maimonides, to this effect. " From the days of Moses down to Rabban Gamaliel, they 
always studied the law, standing ; but after Rabban Gamaliel was dead, weakness de- 
scended on the world, and they studied the law, sitting," ( Witsius.) 

HIS JEWISH OPINIONS. 

Jerusalem was the seat of what may be called the great Jewish 
University. The Rabbins or teachers, united in themselves, not 
merely the sources of Biblical and theological learning, but also 
the whole system of instruction in that civil law, by which their 
nation were still allowed to be governed, with only some slight 
exceptions as to the right of punishment. There was no distinc- 
tion, in short, between the professions of divinity and law, the 
Rabbins being teachers of the whole Mosaic system, and those 
who entered on a course of study under them, aiming at the 
knowledge of both those departments of learning, which, through- 
out the western nations, are now kept, for the most part, entirely 
distinct. Saul was therefore a student both of theology and law, 
and entered himself as a hearer of the lectures of one, who may, 
in modern phrase, be styled the most eminent professor in the 
great Hebrew university of Jerusalem. From him he learned 
the law and the Jewish traditional doctrines, as illustrated and 
perfected by the Fathers of the Pharasaie order. His steady 
energy and resolute activity were here all made available to the 
very complete attainment of the mysteries of knowledge ; and 
the success with which he prosecuted his studies may be best ap- 
preciated by a minute examination of his writings, which every- 
where exhibit indubitable marks of a deep and critical knowledge 
of all the details of Jewish theology and law. He shows him- 
self to have been deeply versed in all the standard modes of ex- 
plaining the Scriptures among the Hebrews, — hj allegory, — typol- 
ogy, accommodation and tradition. Yet though thus ardently 
drinking the streams of Biblical knowledge from this great foun- 
tain-head, he seems to have been very far from imbibing the mild 
and merciful spirit of his great teacher, as it had been so emi- 
nently displayed in his sage decision on the trial of the apostles. 
The acquisition of knowledge, even under such an instructor, 
was, in Saul, attended with the somewhat common evils to which 
a young mind rapidly advanced in dogmatical learning, is natu- 
rally liable, — a bitter, denunciatory intolerance of any opinions 
contrary to his own, — a spiteful feeling towards all doctrinal op- 
ponents, and a disposition to punish speculative errors as actual 
crimes. Ail these common faults were very remarkably devel- 



Saul. 467 

oped in Saul, by that uncommon harshness and fierceness by 
which he was so strongly characterized ; and his worst feelings 
broke out with all their fury against the rising heretics, who, 
without any regular education, were assuming the office of reli- 
gious teachers, and were understood to. be seducing the people 
from their allegiance and due respect to the qualified scholars of 
the law. The occasion on which these dark religious passions 
first exhibited themselves in decided action against the Christians, 
was the murder of Stephen, of which the details have already 
been fully given in that part of the Life of Peter which is con- 
nected with it. Of those who engaged in the previous disputes 
with the proto-martyr, the members of the Cilician synagogue 
are mentioned among others ; and with these Saul would very 
naturally be numbered ; for, residing at a great distance from his 
native province, he would with pleasure seek the company of 
those residents in Jerusalem who were from Cilicia,' and join 
with them in the study of the law and the weekly worship of 
God. What part he took in these animated and angry discus- 
sions, is not known; but his well-known power in argument af- 
fords good reason for believing, that the eloquence and logical 
acuteness which he afterwards displayed in the cause of Christ, 
were now made use of, against the ablest defenders of that same 
cause. His fierce spirit, no doubt, rose with the rest in that burst 
of indignation against the martyr, who fearlessly stood up before 
the council, pouring out a flood of invective against the unjust 
destroyers of the holy prophets of God • and when they all rush- 
ed upon the preacher of righteousness, and dragged him away 
from the tribunal to the place of execution, Saul also was con- 
senting to his death ; and when the blood of the martyr was 
shed, he stood by, approving the deed, and kept the clothes of 
them who slew him. 

HIS PERSECUTING CHARACTER. 

The very active share which Saul took in this and the subse- 
quent cruelties of a similar nature, is in itself a decided though 
terrible proof of that remarkable independence of character, which 
was so distinctly displayed in the greatest events of his apostolic 
career. Saul was no slave to the opinions of others ; nor did he 
take up his active persecuting course on the mere dictation of 
higher authority. On the contrary, his whole behavior towards 
the followers of Jesus was directly opposed to the policy so dis- 
tinctly urged and so efficiently maintained, in at least one in- 



4G8 



SAUL. 



stance, by his great teacher, Gamaliel, whose precepts and exam- 
ple on this subject must have influenced his bold young disciple, 
if any authority could have had such an effect on him. From 
Gamaliel and his disciples, Saul must have received his earliest 
impressions of the character of Christ and his doctrines ; for it is 
altogether probable that he did not reach Jerusalem until some 
time after the ascension of Christ, and there is therefore no rea- 
son to suppose that he himself had ever heard or seen him. Nev- 
ertheless, brought up in the school of the greatest of the Phari- 
sees, he would receive from all his teachers and associates, an im- 
pression decidedly unfavorable, of the Christian sect ; though the 
uniform mildness of the Pharisees, as to vindictive measures, 
would temper the principles of action recommended in regard to 
the course of conduct to be adopted towards them. The rapid 
advance of the new sect, however, soon brought them more and 
more under the invidious notice of the Pharisees, who in the 
life-time of Jesus had been the most determined opposers of him 
and his doctrines ; and the attention of Saul would therefore be 
constantly directed to the preparation for contest with them. 

Stephen's murder seems to have unlocked all the persecuting 
spirit of Saul. He immediately laid his hand to the work of per- 
secuting the friends of Jesus, with a fury that could not be allayed 
by a single act. Nor was he satisfied with merely keeping a 
watchful eye on everything that was openly done by them ; but 
under authority from the Sanhedrim, breaking into the retirement 
of their homes, to hunt them out for destruction, he had them 
thrown into prison, and scourged in the synagogues, and threat- 
ened even with death ; by all which cruelties he so overcame the 
spirit of many of them, that they were forced to renounce the faith 
which they had adopted, and blaspheme the name of Christ in 
public recantations. This furious persecution soon drove them 
from Jerusalem in great numbers, to other cities. Samaria, as 
well as the distant parts of Judea, are mentioned as their places 
of refuge, and not a few fled beyond the bounds of Palestine into 
the cities of Syria. But even these distant exiles were not, by 
their flight into far countries, removed from the effects of the burn- 
ing zeal of their persecutor. Longing for an opportunity to give 
a still wider range to his cruelties, he went to the great council, 
and begged of them such a commission as would authorize him 
to pursue his vindictive measures wherever the sanction of their 
name could support such actions. Among the probable induce- 



saul. 469 

meats to this selection of a foreign field for his unrighteous work, 
may be reasonably placed, the circumstance that Damascus was at 
this time under the government of Aretas, an Arabian prince, into 
whose hands it fell for a short time, during which the equitable 
principles of Roman tolerance no longer operated as a check on 
the murderous spite of the Jews ; for the new ruler, anxious to 
secure his dominion by ingratiating himself with the subjects of 
it, would not be disposed to neglect any opportunity for pleasing 
so powerful and influential a portion of the population of Damas- 
cus as the Jews were, — who lived there in such numbers, that in 
some disturbances which arose a few years after, between them 
and the other inhabitants, ten thousand Jews were slain unarm- 
ed, while in the public baths, enjoying themselves after the fa- 
tigues of the day, without any expectation of violence. So large 
a Jewish population would be secure of the support of Aretas in 
any favorite measure. Saul, well knowing these circumstances, 
must have been greatly influenced by this motive, to seek a com- 
mission to labor in a field where the firm tolerance of Roman sway 
was displaced by the baser rule of a petty prince, whose weakness 
rendered him subservient to the tyrannical wishes of his subjects. 
In Jerusalem the Roman government would not suffer anything 
like a systematic destruction of its subjects, nor authorize the 
taking of life by any religious tribunal, though it might pass over, 
unpunished, a solitary act of mob violence, like the murder of Ste- 
phen. It is perfectly incontestable therefore, that the persecution 
in Jerusalem could not have extended to the repeated destruction 
of life, and that passage in Paul's discourse to Agrippa ; which has 
been supposed to prove a plurality of capital punishments, has ac- 
cordingly been construed in a more limited sense, by the ablest 
modern commentators. 

Kuinoel on Actsxxv. 1, 10, maintains this fully, and quotes other authorities. 

"It seems to some a strange business, that Paul should have had the Christians 
whipped through the synagogues. Why, in a house consecrated to prayer and reli- 
gion, were sentences of a criminal court passed, and the punishment executed on the 
criminal 1 This difficulty seemed so great, even to the learned and judicious Beza, 
that in the face of the testimony of all manuscripts, he would have us suspect the 
genuineness of the passage in Matt. x. 17, where Christ uses the same expression. 
Such a liberty as he would thus take with the sacred text, is of course against all 
modern rules of sacred criticism. For what should we do then with Matt, xxiii. 34, 
where the same passage occurs again 1 Grotius, to explain the difficulty, would have 
the word synagogues understood, not in the sense of houses of prayer, but of civil 
courts of justice; since such a meaning may be drawn from the etymology of the 
Greek word thus translated, (owayuyti, a gathering together, or assembling for any 
purpose.) But that too is a forced construction, for no instance can be brought out of 
the New Testament, where the word is used in that sense, or any other than the com- 
mon one. What then 1 We cannot be allowed to set up the speculations which we 

(50 



470 



SAUL. 



have contrived to agree with otir own notions, against accounts given in so fall and 
clear a manner. Suppose, for a moment, that we could find no traces of the custom 
of scourging in the synagogues, in other writers ; ought that to be considered doubt- 
ful, which is thus stated by Christ and Paul, in the plainest terms, as a fact common- 
ly and perfectly well known in their time 1 Nor is there any reason why scourging 
in the synagogues should seem so unaccountable to us, since it was a grade of disci- 
pline less than excommunication, and less disgraceful. For it is made to appear 
that some of the most eminent of the wise, when they broke the law, were thus pun- 
ished, — not even excepting the head of the Senate, nor the high priest himself." (Wit- 
sius, § 1, IT xix.-xxi.) "Witsius illustrates it still farther, by the stories which follow. 

" But there are instances of flagellation in synagogues found in 
other accounts. Grotius himself quotes from Epiphanius, that a 
certain Jew who wished to revolt to Christianity, was whipped in 
the synagogue. The story is to the following purport. ' A man, 
named Joseph, a messenger of the Jewish patriarch, went into 
Cilicia by order of the patriarch, to collect the tithes and first- 
fruits from the Jews of that province ; and while on his tour of 
duty, lodged in a house near a Christian church. Having by 
means of this, become acquainted with the pastor, he privately 
begs the loan of the book of the gospels, and reads it. But the 
Jews, getting wind of this, were so enraged against him, that on 
a sudden they made an assault on the house, and caught Joseph 
in the very act of reading the gospels. Snatching the book out 
of his hands, they knocked him down, and crying out against 
him with all sorts of abuse, they led him away to the synagogue, 
where they whipped him with rods.' 

" Very much like this is the more modern story which Uriel Acos- 
ta tells of himself, in a little book, entitled " the Pattern of Human 
Life." The thing took place in Amsterdam, about the year 
1630. It seems this Uriel Acosta was a Jew by birth, but be- 
ing a sort of Epicurean philosopher, had some rather heretical 
notions about most of the articles of the Jewish creed ; and on 
this charge, being called to account by the rulers of the syna- 
gogue, stood on his trial. In the end of it, a paper was read to 
him, in which it was specified that he must come into the syna- 
gogue, clothed in a mourning garment, holding a black wax-light 
in his hand, and should utter openly before the congregation a 
certain form of words prescribed by them, in which the offenses 
he had committed were magnified beyond measure. After this, 
that he should be flogged with a cowskin or strap, publicly, in the 
synagogue, and then should lay himself down flat on the thresh- 
hold of the synagogue, that all might walk over him. How 
thoroughly this sentence was executed, is best learned from his 
own amusing and candid story, which are given in the very words. 



SAUL. 471 

as literally as they can be translated. " I entered the synagogue, 
which was full of men and women, (for they had crammed in to- 
gether to see the show,) and when it was time, I mounted the 
wooden platform, which was placed in the midst of the syna- 
gogue for convenience in preaching, and with a loud voice read 
the writing drawn up by them, in which was a confession that I 
really deserved to die a thousand times for what I had done ; 
namely, for my breaches of the sabbath, and for my abandon- 
ment of the faith, which I had broken so far as even by my words 
to hinder others from . embracing Judaism, &c. After I had got 
through with the reading, I came down from the platform, and 
the right reverend ruler of the synagogue drew near to me, and 
whispered in my ear that I must turn aside to a certain corner of 
the synagogue. Accordingly, I went to the corner, and the por- 
ter told me to strip. I then stripped my body as low as my waist, 
— bound a handkerchief about my head, — took off my shoes, and 
raised my arms, holding fast with my hands to a sort of post. 
The porter of the synagogue, or sexton, then came up, and with 
a bandage tied up my hands to the post. When things had been 
thus arranged, the clerk drew near, and taking the cowskin, struck 
my sides with thirty-nine blows, according to the tradition ; while 
in the mean time a psalm was chanted. After this was over, the 
preacher approached, and absolved me from excommunication ; 
and thus was the gate of heaven opened to me, which before was 
shut against me with the strongest bars, keeping me entirely out. 
I next put on my clothes, went to the threshhold of the syna- 
gogue and laid myself down on it, while the porter held up my 
head. Then all who came down, stepped over me, boys as well 
as old men, lifting up one foot and stepping over the lower part 
of my legs. When the last had passed out, I got up, and being 
covered with dust by him who helped me, went home." This 
story, though rather tediously minute in its disgusting particu- 
lars, it was yet thought worth while to copy, because this compa- 
ratively modern scene seemed to give, to the life, the old fashion 
of l scourging in the synagogues.' " 

HIS JOURNEY TO DAMASCUS. 

Thus equipped with the high commission and letters of the su- 
preme court of the Jewish nation, Saul, breathing out threatenings 
and slaughter against the disciples of the Lord, went on his way 
to Damascus, where the sanction of his superiors would have the 
force of despotic law, against the destined victims of his cruelty. 



472 



SAUL. 



The distance from Jerusalem to this great Syrian city, can not be 
less than 250 or 300 miles, and the journey must therefore have 
occupied as many as ten or twelve days, according to the usual 
rate of traveling in those countries. On this long journey there- 
fore, Saul had much season for reflection. There were indeed 
several persons in his company, but probably they were only per- 
sons of an inferior order, and merely the attendants necessary for 
his safety and speed in traveling. Among these therefore, he 
would not be likely to find any person with whom he could main- 
tain any sympathy which could enable them to hold much con- 
versation together, and he must therefore have been left through 
most of the time to the solitary enjoyment of his own thoughts. 
In the midst of the peculiar fatigues of an eastern journey, he 
must have had many seasons of bodily exhaustion and consequent 
mental depression, when the fire of his unholy and exterminating 
zeal would grow languid, and the painful doubts which always 
come in at such dark seasons, to chill the hopes of every great 
mind, — no matter what may be the character of the enterprise, — 
must have had the occasional effect of exciting repentant feelings 
in him. Why had he left the high and sacred pursuits of a litera- 
ry and religious life, in the refined capital of Judaism, to endure 
the fatigues of a long journey over rugged mountains and sandy 
deserts, through rivers and under a burning sun, to a distant city, 
in a strange land, among those who were perfect strangers to him ? 
It was for the sole object of carrying misery and anguish among 
those whose only crime was the belief of a doctrine which he 
hated, because it warred against that solemn system of forms and 
traditions to which he so zealously clung, with all the energy that 
early and inbred prejudice could inspire. But in these seasons of 
weariness and depression, would now occasionally arise some chill- 
ins: doubt about the certain rectitude of the stern course -which 
he had been pursuing, in a heat that seldom allowed him time for 
reflection on its possible character and tendency. Might not that 
faith against which he was warring with such devotedness, be 
true ? — that faith which, amid blood and dying agonies, the 
martyr Stephen had witnessed with his very last breath ? At 
these times of doubt and despondency would perhaps arise the re- 
membrance of that horrible scene, when he had set by, a calm 
spectator, drinking in with delight the agonies of the martyr, and 
learning from the ferocity of the murderers, new lessons of cruel- 
ty to be put in practice against others who should thus adhere to 



saul. 473 

the faith of Christ. No doubt too, an occasional shudder of gloom 
and remorse for such acts would creep over him in the chill of 
evening, or in the heats of noon-day, and darken all his schemes 
of active vengeance against the brethren. But still he journeyed 
northward, and each hour brought him nearer the scene of long- 
planned cruelty. On the last day of his wearisome journey, he 
at length drew near the city, just at noon ; and from the terms 
in which his situation is described, it is not unreasonable to con- 
clude that he was just coming in sight of Damascus, when the 
event happened which revolutionized his purposes, hopes, charac- 
ter, soul, and his whole existence through eternity, — an event 
connected with the salvation of millions that no man can yet 
number. 

Descending from the north-eastern slope of Hermon, over whose 
mighty range his last day's journey had conducted him, Saul came 
along the course of the Abana, to the last hill which overlooks the 
distant city. Here Damascus bursts upon the traveler's view, in 
the midst of a mighty plain, embosomed in gardens, and orchards, 
and groves, which, with the long-known and still bright streams 
of Abana and Pharphar, and the golden flood of the Chrysorrhoas, 
give the spot the name of " one of the four paradises." So lovely 
and charming is the sight which this fair city has in all ages pre- 
sented to the traveler's view, that the Turks relate that their 
prophet, coming near Damascus, took his station on the moun- 
tain Salehiyeh, on the west of the hill-girt plain in which the city 
stands ; and as he thence viewed the glorious and beautiful spot 7 
encompassed with gardens for thirty miles, and thickly set with 
domes and steeples, over which the eye glances as far as it can 
reach, — considering the ravishing beauty of the place, he would 
not tempt his frailty by entering into it, but instantly turned away 
with this reflection : that there was but one paradise designed for 
man, and for his part, he was resolved not to take his, in this 
world. And though there is not the slightest foundation for such 
a story, because the prophet never came near to Damascus, nor 
had an opportunity of entering into it, yet the conspiring testimo- 
ny of modern travelers justifies the fable, in the impression it con- 
veys of the surpassing loveliness of the view from this very spot, 
— called the Arch of Victory, from an unfinished mass of stone- 
work which here crowns the mountain's top. This spot has been 
marked by a worthless tradition, as the scene of Saul's conver- 
sion ; and the locality is made barely probable, by the much bet- 



474 



SAUL. 



ter authority of the circumstance, that, it accords with the sacred 

narrative, in being: on the road from Jerusalem, and " nidi unto 

the city." 

" Damascus is a very ancient city, which the oldest records and traditions show by 
their accordant testimony to have been founded byTJz, the son of Aram, and grand- 
son of Shem. It was the capital or mother city of that Syria which is distinguished 
by the name of ilram Dammesek or Damascene Syria, lying between Libanus and 
Anti-Libanus. The city stands at the base of Mount Hermon, from which descend 
the famous streams of Abana and Pharphar ; the latter washing the walls of the city, 
while the former cuts it through the middle. It was a very populous, delightful, and 
wealthy place; but as in the course of its existence it had suffered a variety of for- 
tune, so it had often changed masters. To pass over its earlier history, we will only 
observe, that before the Christian era, on the defeat of Tigranes, the Armenian mon- 
arch, it was yielded to the Romans, being taken by the armies of Pompey. In the 
time of Paul, as we are told in Corinthians xi. 32, it was held under the (temporary) 
sway of Aretas, a king of the Arabians, father-in-law of Herod the tetrarch. It had 
then a large Jewish population, as we may gather from the fact, that in the reign of 
Nero, 10,000 of that nation were slaughtered, unarmed, and in the public baths by 
the Damascenes, as Josephus records in his history of the Jewish War, II. Book, 
chap. 25. Among the Jews of Damascus, also, were a considerable number of 
Christians, and it was raging for the destruction of these, that Saul, furnished with 
the letters and commission of the Jewish high priest, now flew like a hawk upon the 
doves." (Witsius, § 2, IT 1.) 

The sacred narrative gives no particulars of the other circum- 
stances connected with this remarkable event, in either of the three 
statements presented in different parts of the book of Acts. All 
that is commemorated, is that at mid-day, as Saul with his com- 
pany drew near to Damascus, he saw a light exceeding the sun 
in brightness, which flashed upon them from heaven, and struck 
them all to the earth. And while they were all fallen to the 
ground, Saul alone heard a voice speaking to him in the Hebrew 
tongue, and saying, "Saul! Saul! Why persecutest thou me? It 
is hard for thee to kick against thorns." To this, Saul asked in 
reply, " Who art thou, Lord ?" The answer was, " I am Jesus the 
Nazarene, whom thou persecutest." Saul, trembling and aston- 
ished, replied, " Lord, what wilt thou that I should do ?" And 
the voice said, " Rise and stand upon thy feet, and go into the 
city ; there thou shalt be told what to do, since for this purpose I 
have appeared to thee, to make use of thee as a minister and a 
witness, both of what thou hast seen and of what I will cause thee 
to see, — choosing thee out of the people, and of the heathen na- 
tions to whom I now send thee, — to open their eyes, — to turn them 
from darkness to light, and from the dominion of Satan unto God, 
that they may receive remission of sins, and an inheritance among 
them that are sanctified, by faith in me." 

These words are given thus fully only in Saul's own account of his conversion, in 
his address to king Agrippa. (Acts xxvi. 14—18.) The original Greek of verse 
17, is most remarkably and expressively significant, containing, beyond all doubt, 



saul. 475 

the formal commission of Saul as the " Apostle of the Gentiles." The first word 
in that verse is translated in the common English version, "delivering;" whereas, 
the original, Et-aipovpevos, means also " taking out," "choosing;" and is clearly shown 
by Bretschneider, sub voc.in numerous references to the usages of the LXX., and by 
Kuinoel, in loc, to bear this latter meaning here. Rosenmueller and others however, 
have been led, by the circumstance that Hesychius gives the meaning of " res- 
cue," to prefer that. Rosenmueller's remark, that the context demands this mean- 
ing, is however certainly unauthorized ; for, on this same ground, Kuinoel bases the 
firmest support of the meaning of " choice." The meaning of " rescue" was indeed 
the only one formerly received, but the lights of modern exegesis have added new dis- 
tinctness and aptness to the passage, by the meaning adopted above. Beza, Piscator, 
Pagninus, Arias Montanus, Castalio, &c, as well as the oriental versions, are all quo- 
ted by Poole in defense of the common rendering, nor does he seem to know of the 
sense now received. But Saul was truly chosen, both " out of the people" of Is- 
rael, (because he was a Jew by birth and religion,) " and out of the heathen," (be- 
cause he was born and brought up among the Grecians, and therefore was taken 
out from among them, as a minister of grace to them,) and the whole passage is thus 
shown to be most beautifully just to the circumstances which so eminently fitted him 
for his Gentile apostleship. The Greek verb used in the conclusion of the passage, is 
the consecrating word, aTrooreAXw, (apostello,) and makes up the formula of his apos- 
tolic commission, which is there given in language worthy of the vast and eternal 
scope of the sense, — words fit to be spoken from heaven, in thunder, amid the flash 
of lightnings, that called the bloody-minded, bitter, maddened persecutor, to the 
peaceful, devoted, unshrinking testimony of the cause, against the friends of which, 
he before breathed only threatenings and slaughter. 




EJ-aipovfievog at ik tov \aov Kai r 5 v 'sSi/cSv, eis 'ovs vvv as AII02TEAAJ2, 

All this took place while the whole company of travelers were 
lying prostrate on the ground, stunned and almost senseless. Of 
all those present, however, Saul only heard these solemn words 
of warning, command, and prophecy, thus sent from heaven in 
thunder ; for he himself afterwards, in narrating these awful events 
before the Jewish multitude, expressly declares "the men that 
were with me, saw the light, indeed, and were afraid ; but they 
heai^d not the voice of him who spoke to me." And though in 
the previous statement given by Luke, in the regular course of 
the narrative, it is said that " the men who journeyed with Saul 
were speechless, — hearing a voice, but seeing no man ;" yet the 



47G saul. 

two statements are clearly reconciled by the consideration of the 
different meanings of the word translated " voice" in both passa- 
ges, but which the accompanying expressions sufficiently limit in 
the latter case only to the articulate sounds of a human voice, 
while in the former it is left in such terms as to mean merely a 
" sound," as of thunder, or any thing else which can be supposed 
to agree best with the other circumstances. To them, therefore, 
it seemed only surprising, not miraculous; for they are not men- 
tioned as being impressed, otherwise than by fear and amazement, 
while Saul, who alone heard the words, was moved thereby to a 
complete conversion. The whole circumstances, therefore, allow 
and require, in accordance with other similar passages, that the ma- 
terial phenomena which were made the instruments of this mirac- 
ulous conversion, were, as they are described, first a flash of light- 
ning, which struck the company to the earth, giving all a severe 
shock, but affecting Saul most of all, and second, a peal of thun- 
der, heard by all as such, except Saul, who distinguished in those 
awful, repeated sounds, the words of a heavenly voice, with which 
he held distinct converse, while his wondering companions thought 
him only muttering incoherently to himself, between the peals of 
thunder ; — just as in the passage related by John, when Jesus 
called to God, " Father ! glorify thy name ;" and then there 
came a voice from heaven, saying, "I both have glorified it and 
will glorify it ;" yet the people who then stood by, said, " It thun- 
dered" — having no idea of the expressive utterance which was so 
distinctly heard by Jesus and his disciples. There is no account, 
indeed, in either case, of any thunder storm accompanying the 
events ; but there is nothing in the incidents to forbid it ; and the 
nature of the effects upon the company who heard and saw, can 
be reconciled only with the supposition of a burst of actual thun- 
der and lightning, which God made the organ of his awful voice, 
speaking to Saul in words that called him from a course of sin 
and cruelty, to be a minister of grace, mercy and peace, to all 
whose destroying persecutor he had before been. The sequel of 
the effects, too, are such as would naturally follow these material 
agencies. The me±: who were least stunned, rose to their feet 
soon after the first shock ; and when the awful scene was over, 
they bestirred themselves to lift up Saul, who was now found, not 
only speechless, but blind, — the eyes being so dazzled by such ex- 
cess of light, that the nerve loses all its power, generally, forever. 
Saul being now raised from the ground, was led, helpless and 



SAUL. 



477 



thunder-struck, by his distressed attendants, into the city, which he 
had hoped to make the scene of his cruel persecutions, but which 
he now entered, more surely bound, than could have been the most 
wretched of his destined captives. 

Kuinoel and Bloomfield will furnish the inquiring reader with the amusing de- 
tails of the hypotheses, by which some of the moderns have attempted to explain 
away the whole of Saul's conversion, into a mere remarkable succession of natural 
occurrences, without any miracle at all. 

HIS STAY IN DAMASCUS. 

Thus did the commissioned persecutor enter the ancient capi- 
tal of Aram. But as they led him along the flowery ways into 
this Syrian paradise, how vain were its splendors, its beauties 
and its historic glories, to the eyes which had so long strained 
over the far horizon, to catch the first gleam of its white towers 
and rosy gardens, beyond the mountain-walls. In vain did Da- 
mascus invite the admiring gaze of the passing traveler, to those 
damask roses embowering and hedging his path, which take 
their name in modern times, from the gardens where they first 
bloomed under the hand of man. In vain did their fragrance 
woo his nobler sense to perceive their beauty of form and hue ; 
in vain did the long line of palaces and towers and temples, still 
bright in the venerable splendor of the ancient Aramaic kings, 
rise in majesty before him. The eyes that had so often dwelt on 
these historical monuments, in the distant and brilliant fancies of 
studious youth, were now closed to the not less brilliant splendors 
of the reality; and through the ancient arches of those mighty 
gates, and along the crowded streets, amid the noise of bustling 
thousands, the commissioned minister of wrath now moved dis- 
tressed, darkened, speechless and horror-struck, — marked, like 
the first murderer, (of whose crime that spot was the fabled scene,) 
by the hand of God. The hand of God was indeed on him, not 
in wrath, but in mercy, sealing his abused bodily vision for a 
short space, until his mental eyes, purified from the scales of pre- 
judice and unholy zeal, should have become fitted for the percep- 
tion of objects, whose beauty and glory should be the theme of 
his thoughts and words, through all his later days, and of his 
discourse to millions for whom his heart now felt no love, but for 
whose salvation he was destined to freely spend and offer up his 
life. Passing along the crowded ways of the great city, under 
the guidance of his attendants, he was at last led into the street, 
which for its regularity was called the "Straight Way," and 
there was lodged in the house of a person named Judas, — re> 

61 



478 



SAUL, 



maining' for three days in utter darkness, without the presence of 
a single friend, and without the glimmer of a hope that he should 
ever again see the light of day. Disconsolate and desolate, he 
passed the whole of this period in fasting, without one earthly ob- 
ject or call, to distract his attention from the solemn themes of his 
heavenly vision. He had all this long interval for reflection on 
the strange reversion of destiny pointed out by this indisputable 
decree, which summoned him from works of cruelty and destruc- 
tion, to deeds of charity, kindness and devotion to those whose 
ruin he had lately sought with his whole heart. At the close of 
this season of lonely but blessed meditation, a new revelation of 
the commanding presence of the Deity was made to a humble 
and devout Christian of Damascus, named Ananias, known even 
among the Jews as a man of blameless character, To him, in a 
vision, the Lord appeared, and calling him by name, directed him 
most minutely to the house where Saul was lodging, and gave him 
the miraculous commission of restoring to sight that same Saul, 
now deprived of this sense by the visitation of God, but expect- 
ing its restoration by the hands of Ananias himself, who though 
yet unknown to him in the body, had been distinctly seen in a 
vision by the blind sufferer, as his healer, in the name of that Je- 
sus who had met him in the way and smote him with this blind- 
ness, dazzling him with the excess of his unveiled heavenly glo- 
ries. Ananias, yet appalled by the startling view of the bright 
messenger, and doubting the nature of the vision which sum- 
moned him to a duty so strangely inconsistent with the dreadful 
fame and character of the person named as the subject of his 
miraculous ministrations, hesitated to promise obedience, and par- 
leyed with his summoner. " Lord ! I have heard by many, of 
this man, how much evil he has done to thy saints at Jerusalem ; 
and here, he has commission from the chief priests to bind all that 
call on thy name." The merciful Lord, not resenting the ration- 
al doubts of his devout but alarmed servant, replied in words of 
considerate explanation, renewing his charge, with assurances of 
the safe and hopeful accomplishment of his appointed task. " Go 
thy way : for he is a chosen instrument of mercy for me, to bear 
my name before nations and kings, and the children of Israel : 
for I will show him how great things he must suffer for the sake 
of my name." Ananias, no longer doubting, now went his way 
as directed, and finding Saul, clearly addressed him in terms of 
confidence and even of affection, recognizing him, on the testimo- 



saul. 479 

ny of the vision, as already a friend of those companions of Jesus, 
whom he had lately persecuted. He put his hands on him, in 
the usual form of invoking a blessing on any one, and said, 
" Brother Saul ! the Lord Jesus, who appeared to thee in the 
way, as thou earnest, has sent me, that thou mightest receive thy 
sight, and be filled with a holy spirit." And immediately there 
fell from the eyes of the blinded persecutor, something like scales, 
and he saw now, in bodily, real presence, him who had already 
been in form revealed to his spirit, in a vision. At the same mo- 
ment, fell from his inward sense, the obscuring film of prejudice 
and bigotry. Renewed in mental vision, he saw with the clear 
eye of confiding faith and eternal hope, that Jesus, who in the 
full revelation of his vindictive majesty having dazzled and blind- 
ed him in his murderous career, now appeared to his purified 
sense, in the tempered rays and mild effulgence of redeeming 
grace. Changed too, in the whole frame of his mind, he felt no 
more the promptings of that dark spirit of cruelty, but, filled with 
a holy spirit, before unknown to him, he began a new existence, 
replete with the energies of a divine influence. No longer fast- 
ing in token of distress, he now ate, by way of thanksgiving for 
his joyful restoration, and was strengthened thereby for the great 
task which he had undertaken. He was now admitted to the fel- 
lowship of the disciples of Jesus, and remained many days among 
them as a brother, mingling in the most friendly intercourse with 
those very persons, against whom he came to wage exterminating 
ruin. Nor did he confine his actions in his new character to the 
privacies of Christian intercourse. Going immediately into the 
synagogues, he there publicly proclaimed his belief in Jesus 
Christ, and boldly maintained him to be the Son of God. Great 
was the amazement of all who heard him. The fame of Saul of 
Tarsus, as a ferocious and determined persecutor of all who pro- 
fessed the faith of Jesus, had already pervaded Palestine, and 
spread into Syria ; and what did this strange display now mean ? 
They saw him, whom they had thus known by his dreadful repu- 
tation as a hater and exterminator of the Nazarene doctrine, now 
preaching it in the schools of the Jewish law and the houses of 
worship for the adherents of Mosaic forms, and with great power 
persuading others to a similar renunciation of all opposition to 
the name of Jesus ; and they said, "Is not this he who destroyed 
them that called on this name in Jerusalem, and came hither, with 
the very purpose of taking them bound, to the Sanhedrim, for 



480 



SAUL. 



punishment ?" But Saul, each clay advancing in the knowledge 
and faith of the Christian doctrine, soon grew too strong in argu- 
ment for the most skilful of the defenders of the Jewish faith ; 
and utterly confounded them with his proofs that Jesus was the 
very Messiah. This triumphant course he followed for a long 
time; until, at last, the stubborn Jews, provoked to the highest 
degree by the defeats which they had suffered from this powerful 
disputant, lately their most zealous defender, took counsel to put 
him to death, as a renegade from the faith, of which he had been 
the trusted professor, as well as the commissioned minister of its 
vengeance on the heretics whose cause he had now espoused, and 
was defending, to the great injury and discredit of the Jndaical 
order. In contriving the means of executing this scheme, they 
received the support and assistance of the government of the 
city, — Damascus being then held, not by the Romans, but by 
Aretas, a petty king of northern Arabia. The governor appoint- 
ed by Aretas did not scruple to aid the Jews in their murderous 
project; but even himself, with a detachment of the city garrison, 
kept watch at the gates, to kill Saul at his first outgoing. But 
all their wicked plots were set at nought by a very simple contri- 
vance. The Christian friends of Saul, hearing of the danger, 
determined to remove him from it at once ; and accordingly, one 
night, put the destined apostle of the Gentiles in a basket ; and 
through the window of some one of their houses, which adjoin- 
ed the barriers of the city, they let him down outside of the wall, 
while the spiteful Jews, with the complaisant governor and his 
detachment of the city guard, were to no purpose watching the 
gates with unceasing resolution, to wreak their vengeance on this 
dangerous convert. 

Michaelis alludes to the difficulties which have arisen about the possession of Da- 
mascus by Aretas, and concludes as follows : 

" The force of these objections has been considerably weakened, in a dissertation 
published in 1755, ' De ethnarcha Aretae Arabum regis Paulo insidiante,' by J. G. 
Heyne, who has shown it to be highly probable, first, that Aretas, against whom the 
Romans, not long before the death of Tiberius, made a declaration of war, which they 
neglected to put in execution, took the opportunity of seizing Damascus, which had 
once belonged to his ancestors ; an event omitted in Josephus, as forming no part of 
the Jewish history, and by the Roman historians as being a matter not flattering in 
itself, and belonging only to a distant province. Secondly, that Aretas was by reli- 
gion a Jew, — a circumstance the more credible, when we reflect that Judaism had 
been widely propagated in that country, and that even kings in Arabia Felix had re- 
cognized the law of Moses. ****** j\ n & hence we may 
explain the reason why the Jews were permitted to exercise, in Damascus, persecu- 
tions still severer than those in Jerusalem, where the violence of their zeal was awed 
by the moderation of the Roman policy. Of this we find an example in the ninth 
chapter of the Acts, w^here Paul is sent by the high priest to Damascus, to exercise 
against the Christians, cruelties which the return of the Roman governor had check- 



SAUL. 481 

ed in Judea. These accounts agree likewise with what is related in Josephus, that 
the number of Jews in Damascus amounted to ten thousand, and that almost all the 
women, even those whose husbands were heathens, were of the Jewish religion." 
(Michael. Introd. Vol. IV. Part I. c. ii. § 12.) 

HIS RESIDENCE IN ARABIA. 

On his escape from this murderous plot, Saul, having now re- 
ceived from God, who called him by his grace, the revelation of 
his Son, that he might preach him among the heathen, immedi- 
ately resolved not to confer with any mortal, on the subject of his 
task, and therefore refrained from going up to Jerusalem, to visit 
those who were apostles before him. Turning his course south- 
eastward, he found refuge from the rage of the Damascan Jews, 
in the solitudes of the eastern deserts, where, free alike from the 
persecutions and the corruptions of the city, he sought in medita- 
tion and lonely study, that diligent preparation which was neces- 
sary for the high ministry to which God had so remarkably called 
him. A long time was spent by him in this wise and profitable 
seclusion ; but the exact period cannot be ascertained. It is only 
probable that more than a year was thus occupied ; during which 
he was not a mere hermit, indeed, but at any rate, was a resident 
in a region destitute of most objects which would be apt to draw 
off his attention from study. That part of Arabia in which he 
took refuge, was not a mere dessrt, nor a wilderness, yet had very 
few towns, and those only of a small size, with hardly any in- 
habitants of such a character as to be attractive companions to 
Saul. After some time, changes having taken place in the gov- 
ernment of Damascus, he was enabled to return thither with safety, 
the Jews being now checked in their persecuting cruelty by the 
re-establishment of the Roman dominion over that part of Syria. 
He did not remain there long ; but having again displayed himself 
as a bold assertor of the faith of Jesus, he next set his face towards 
Jerusalem, on his return, to make known in the halls of those 
who had sent him forth to deeds of blood, that their commission 
had been reversed by the Father of all spirits, who had now not 
only summoned, but fully equipped, their destined minister of 
wrath, to be "a chosen instrument of mercy" to nations who had 
never yet heard of Israel's God. 

The different accounts given of these events, in Acts ix. 19 — 25, and in Galatians 
i. 15-24, as well as 2 Cor.xi. 32-33, have been united in very opposite ways by differ- 
ent commentators, and form the most perplexing passages in the life of Saul. The 
journey into Arabia, of which he speaks in Galatians i. 17, is supposed by most wri- 
ters, to have been made during the time when Luke mentions him as occupied in 
and about Damascus ; and it is said that he went thence into Arabia immediately af- 
ter his conversion, before he had preached anywhere ; and such writers maintain 



482 



SAUL. 



that the word "straightway" or "immediately" in Acts ix. 20, (o^ew?,) really means, 
that it was not until a long time after his conversion that he preached, in the syna- 
gogues!! Into this remarkable opinion they have been led by the fact, that Saul 
himself says, (Galat. i. 16,) that when he was called by God to the apostleship, " im- 
mediately he conferred not with flesh and blood, nor went up to Jerusalem, but went 
into Arabia." All this however, is evidently specified by him only in reference to 
the point that he did not derive his title to the apostleship from " those that were 
apostles before him," nor from any human authority ; and full justice is therefore 
done to his words, by applying them only to the fact, that he went to Arabia before 
he went to Jerusalem, without supposing them to mean that he left Damascus imme- 
diately after his baptism by Ananias. All the historical writers however, seem to 
take this latter view. Witsius, Cappel, Pearson, Lardner, Murdock, Hemsen, &c. 
place his journey to Arabia between his baptism and the time of his escape, and 
suppose that when he fled from Damascus, he went directly to Jerusalem. In the dif- 
ferent arrangement which Imake of these events, however. I find myself supported 
by most of the great exegetical writers, as Wolf, Kumoel, and Bloomfield ; and I can 
not better support this view than in the words of the latter. 

Acts ix. 19. " iyiviTo hi 6 i.av\os. Paul (Galat. 1, 17,) relates that he, after his conver- 
sion, did not proceed to Jerusalem, but repaired to Arabia, and from thence returned 
to Damascus. Hence, according to the opinion of Pearson, in his Annal. Paul. p. 
2. the words iyivero hi b Zav\os are to be separated from the preceding passage, and 
constitute a new story, in which is related what happened at Damascus after Saul's 
return from Arabia. But the words haval fj/xfpai may and ought to be referred to the 
whole time of Paul's abode at Damascus, before he went into Arabia; and thus with 
the haval rifxipai be numbered the ^f'pat nvh mentioned at ver. 19 : for the sense of the 
words is this : " Saul, when he spent some days with the Damascene Christians, im- 
mediately taught in the synagogues. Now Luke entirely passes by Paul's journey 
into Arabia. (Kuin.) Doddridge imagines that his going into Arabia, (to which, as 
he observes, Damascus now belonged,) was only making excursions from that city 
into the neighboring parts of the country, and perhaps taking a large circuit about 
it, which might be his employment between the time in which he began to preach in 
Damascus, and his quitting it after having been conquered by the Romans under 
Pompey." But in view of this subject I cannot agree with him. The country in the 
iieigkborkood of Damascus is not properly Arabia." 

22-24. " &s hi hXripovvTo— avfXfTv ahrdv. In 2 Cor. xi. 32, we read that the Ethnarch of 
Aretas, king of Arabia, had placed a guard at the gates of Damascus, to seize Paul. 
Now it appears that S} T ria Damascene was, at the end of the Mithridatic war, redu- 
ced by Pompey to the Roman 3 r oke. It has therefore been inquired how it could 
happen that Aretas should then have the government, and appoint an Ethnarch. 
That Aretas had, on account of the repudiation of his daughter by Herod Antipas, 
commenced hostilities against that monarch, and in the last year of Tiberius (A. D. 
37,) had completely defeated his army, we learn from Joseph. Ant. 18, 5, 1. seqq. 
Herod had, we find, signified this fry letter to Tiberius, who, indignant at this auda- 
city, (Joseph. L. c.) gave orders to Vitellius, prefect of Syria, to declare war against 
Aretas, and take him alive, or send him his head. Vitellius made preparations for 
the war, but on receiving a message acquainting him with the death of Tiberius, he 
dismissed his troops into winter quarters. And thus Aretas was delivered from the 
danger. At the time, however, that Vitellius drew off his forces, Aretas invaded 
Syria, seized Damascus, and continued to occupy it, in spite of Tiberius's stupid suc- 
cessor, Caligula. This is the opinion of most commentators, and among others, 
Wolf, Michaelis, and Eichhorn. But I have already shewn in the Proleg. § de chro- 
nologia lib. 2, 3, that Aretas did not finally subdue Damascus until Vitellius had al- 
ready departed from the province." (Kuin.) (Bloomfield's Annotations, Vol. IV. 
pp. 322—324.) 

HIS RETURN TO JERUSALEM. 

Arriving in the city, whence only three years before he had set 
out, in a frame of mind so different from that in which he return- 
ed, and with a purpose so opposite to his present views and plans, — 
he immediately, with all the confidence of Christian faith, and ar- 



SAUL. 483 

dent love for those to whom his religious sympathies now so close- 
ly fastened him, assayed to mingle in a familiar and friendly man- 
ner with the apostolic company, and offered himself to their Chris- 
tian fellowship as a devout believer in Jesus. But they, already 
having too well known him in his previous character as the per- 
secutor of their brethren, the aider and abettor in the murder of 
the heroic and innocent Stephen, and the greatest enemy of the 
faithful, — very decidedly repulsed his advances, as only a new 
trick to involve them in difficulties, that would make them liable 
to punishment which their prudence had before enabled them to 
escape. They therefore altogether refused to receive Saul ; for 
" they were all afraid of him, and believed not that he was a dis- 
ciple." In this disagreeable condition, — cast out as a hypocrite, 
by the apostles of that faith, for which he had sacrificed all earth- 
ly prospects, — he was fortunately found by Barnabas, who being, 
like Saul, a Hellenist Jew, naturally felt some especial sympathy 
with one whose country was within a few miles of his own ; and 
by this circumstance, being induced to notice the professed con- 
vert, soon recognized in him, the indubitable signs of a regenera- 
ted and sanctified spirit, and therefore brought him to the chief 
apostles, Peter, and James, the Lord's brother ; for with these 
alone did Saul commune, at this visit, as he himself distinctly 
testifies. Still avoiding the company of the great mass of the 
apostles and disciples, he confined himself almost wholly to the 
acquaintance of Peter, with whom he abode in close familiarity 
for fifteen days. In order to reconcile the narrative of Luke in 
the Acts, with the account given by Saul himself, in the first 
chapter of the epistle to the Galatians, it must be understood that 
the "apostles" spoken of by the former are only the two above- 
mentioned, and it was with these only that he " went in and out 
at Jerusalem," — the other apostles being probably absent on some 
missionary duties among the new churches throughout Judea and 
Palestine. Imitating the spirit of the proto-martyr, whose death 
he had himself been instrumental in effecting, "he spoke boldly 
in the name of the Lord Jesus, and disputed against the Hellen- 
ists," doubtless the very same persons among whom he himself 
had formerly been enrolled as an unshrinking opposer of that faith 
which he was now advocating. By them he was received with 
all that vindictive hate which might have been expected ; and he 
was at once denounced as a vile renegade from the cause which 
in his best clays he had maintained as the only right one. To 



484 saul. 

show most satisfactorily that, though he might change, they had 
not done so, they directly resolved to punish the bold disowner of 
the faith of his fathers, and would soon have crowned him with 
the fate of Stephen, had not the disciples heard of the danger 
which threatened the life of their new brother, and provided for 
his escape by means not less efficient than those before used in 
his behalf, at Damascus. Before the plans for his destruction 
could be completed, they privately withdrew him from Jerusalem, 
and had him safely conducted down to Caesarea, on the coast, 
whence, with little delay, he was shipped for some of the north- 
ern parts of Syria, from which he found his way to Tarsus, — 
whether by land or sea, is unknown. 

BIS VISIT TO TARSUS. 

This return to his native city was probably the first visit which 
he had made to it, since the day when he departed from his fa- 
ther's house, to go to Jerusalem as a student of Jewish theology. 
It must therefore have been the occasion of many interesting re- 
flections and reminiscences. What changes had the events of that 
interval wrought in him, — in his faith, his hopes, his views, his 
purposes for life and for death ! The objects which were then to 
him as idols, — the aims and ends of his being, — had now no place 
in his reverence or his affection ; but in their stead was now 
placed a name and a theme, of which he could hardly have heard 
before he first left Tarsus, — and a cause whose triumph would be 
the overthrow of all those traditions of the Fathers, of which he 
had been taught to be so exceeding zealous. To this new cause 
he now devoted himself, and probably at this time labored "in the 
regions of Cilicia," until a new apostolic summons called him to a 
distant field. He was yet " personally unknown to the churches 
of Judea, which were in Christ ; and they had only heard, that he 
who persecuted them in times past, now preached the faith which 
once he destroyed ; they therefore glorified God on his account." 
The very beginnings of his apostolic duties were therefore in a for- 
eign field, and not within the original premises of the lost sheep 
of the house of Israel, where indeed he was not even known but 
by fame, except to a few in Jerusalem. In this he showed the 
great scope and direction of his future labors, — among the Gen- 
tiles, not among the Jews ; leaving the latter to the sole care of 
the original apostles, while he turned to a vast field for which 
they were in no way fitted, by nature, or by apostolic education, 
nor were destined in the great scheme of salvation. 



saul. 485 

his apostolic labors in antioch. 
During this retirement of Saul to his native home, the first 
great call of the Gentiles had been made through the summons of 
Simon Peter to Cornelius. There was manifest wisdom in this 
arrangement of events. Though the original apostles were plainly 
never intended, by providence, to labor to any great extent in the 
Gentile field, yet it was most manifestly proper that the first open- 
ing of this new field should be made by those directly and person- 
ally commissioned by Jesus himself, and who, from having en- 
joyed his bodily presence for so long a time, would be considered 
best qualified to judge of the propriety of a movement so novel 
and unprecedented in its character. The great apostolic chief was 
therefore made the first minister of grace to the Gentiles ; and 
the violent opposition with which this innovation on Judaical 
sanctity was received by the more bigoted, could of course be 
much more efficiently met, and disarmed, by the apostle specially 
commissioned as the keeper of the keys of the heavenly kingdom, 
than by one who had been but lately a persecutor of the faithful, 
and who, by his birth and partial education in a Grecian city, 
had acquired such a familiarity with Gentile usages, as to be rea- 
sonably liable to suspicion, in regard to an innovation which so 
remarkably favored them. This great movement having been 
thus made by the highest Christian authority on earth, — and 
the controversy immediately resulting having been thus decided, 
— the way was now fully open for the complete extension of 
the gospel to the heathen, and Saul was therefore immediately 
called, in providence, from his retirement, to take up the work of 
evangelizing Syria, which had already been partially begun at 
Antioch. by some of the Hellenistic refugees from the persecution 
at the time of Stephen's martyrdom. The apostles at Jerusalem, 
hearing of the success which attended these incidental efforts, 
dispatched their trusty brother Barnabas, to confirm the good 
work, under the direct commission of apostolic authority. He, 
having come to Antioch, rejoiced his heart with the sight of the 
success which had crowned the work of those who, in the midst of 
the personal distress of a malignant persecution, that had driven 
them from Jerusalem, had there sown a seed that was already 
bringing forth glorious fruits. Perceiving the immense impor- 
tance of the field there opened, he immediately felt the want of 
some person of different qualifications from the original apostles, 
and one whose education and habits would fit him not only to 

(52 



486 SAUL, 

labor among the professors of the Jewish faith, but also to com- 
municate the doctrines of Christ to the Grecians. In this crisis 
he bethought himself of the wonderful young convert with whom 
he had become acquainted, under such remarkable circumstances, 
a few years before, in Jerusalem, — whose daring zeal and master- 
ly learning had been so signally manifested among the Hellenists, 
with whom he had formerly been associated as an equally active 
persecutor. Inspired both by considerations of personal regard, 
and by wise convictions of the peculiar fitness of this zealous dis- 
ciple for the field now opened in Syria, Barnabas immediately left 
his apostolic charge at Antioch, and went over to Tarsus, to in- 
vite Saul to this great labor. The journey was but a short one, 
the distance by water being not more than one hundred miles, 
and by land, around through the " Syrian gates," about one hun- 
dred and fifty. He therefore soon arrived at Saul's home, and 
found him ready and willing to undertake the proposed apostolic 
duty. They immediately returned together to Antioch, and ear- 
nestly devoted themselves to their interesting labors. 

"Antioch, the metropolis of Syria, was built, according tor some authors, by Antl- 
oehus Epiphanes; others amrrn, by Seleucus Isicanor, the first king of Syria after 
Alexander the Great, in memory of his father Antiochus. and was the "royal seat 
of the kings of Syria." For power and dignhy, Strabo, (lib, xvi. p. 517,) says it was 
not much inferior to Seleucia, or Alexandria. Josephus, (lib. iii. cap. 3,) says, it was 
the third great city of all that belonged to the Roman provinces. It was frequently 
called Antiochia Epidaphne, from its neighborhood to Daphne, a Tillage where the 
temple of Daphne stood, to distinguish it from other fourteen of the same name men- 
tioned by Stephanus de Urbibus, and by Eustathius in Dionys. p. 170; or as Appi- 
anus (in Syriacis,)and others, sixteen cities in Syria, and elsewhere, which bore that 
name. It was celebrated among the Jews for ' Jus civitatis,' which Seleucus Nica- 
nor had given them in that city with the Grecians and Macedonians, and which, 
says Josephus, they still retain, Antiq. lib. xii. cap. 13 ; and for the wars of the 
Maccabeans with those kings. Among Christians, for being the place wdiere they 
first received that name, and where Saul and Barnabas began their apostolic labors 
together. In the flourishing times of the Roman empire, it was the ordinary residence 
of the prefect or governor of the eastern provinces, and also honored with the resi- 
dence of many of the Roman emperors, especially of Verus and Valens, who spent 
here the greatest part of their time. It lay on both sides of the river Orontes, about 
twelve miles from the Mediterranean sea." (Wells's Geography N. T. — "Whitby's 
Table.) (J. M. Williams's Notes on Pearson's Annates Paulinae.) 

Having arrived at Antioch, Saul gave himself, with Barnabas, 
zealously to the work for which he had been summoned, and la- 
bored among the people to good purpose, assembling the church 
and imparting to all that would hear, the knowledge of the Chris- 
tian doctrine. Under these active exertions the professors of the 
faith of Jesus became so numerous and so generally known in 
Antioch, that the heathen inhabitants found it convenient to de- 
signate them by a distinct appellation, which they derived from 



saul. 487 

the great founder and object of their religion, — calling them Chris- 
tians, because the heathen inhabitants of Syria were not acquaint- 
ed with the terms, " Nazarene" and " Galilean," which had 
been applied to the followers of Christ by the Jews, partly from 
the places where they first appeared, and partly in opprobium 
for their low provincial origin. 

The name now first created by the Syrians to distinguish the sect, is remarkable, 
because being derived from a Greek word, Ckristos, it has a Latin adjective termin- 
ation, Christians, and is therefore incontestably shown to have been applied by the 
Roman inhabitants of Antioch ; for no Grecian would ever have been guilty of such 
a barbarism, in the derivation of one word from another in his own language. The 
proper Greek form of the derivation would have been Christicos, or Christenos, and 
the substantive would have been, not Christianity, but Christicism, or Christenism^ 
— a word so awkward in sound, however, that it is very well for all Christendom, 
that the Roman barbarism took the place of the pure Greek termination. And 
since the Latin form of the first derivative has prevailed, and Christie thus been, 
made the name of " a believer in Christ," it is evident to any classical scholar, that 
Christianity is the only proper form of the substantive secondarily derived. For 
though the appending of a Latin termination upon a Greek word, as in the case of 
Christians, was unquestionably a blunder and a barbarism in the first place, it yet 
can not compare, for absurdity, with the notion of deriving from this Latin form, the 
substantive Christianismas, with a Greek termination foolishly pinned to a Latin one, 
— a folly of which the French are nevertheless guilty. The error, of course, can not 
now be corrected in that language ; but those who stupidly copy the barbarism from 
them, and try to introduce the monstrous word, ChristianisM, into English, deserve 
the reprobation of every man of taste, 

" Before this they were called ' disciples,' as in this place — ' believers,' Acts v. 14 — 
'men of the chureh,' Acts xii. 1 — ' men of the way,' Acts ix. 2 — ' the saints,' Acts 
ix, 13 — ' those that called on the name of Ghrist,' ver. 14 — and by their enemies, 
Nazarenes and Galileans, and ' men of the sect ;' — but now, by the conversion of so 
many heathens, both in Caesarea and Antioch, the believing Jews and Gentiles be- 
ing made all one church, this new name was given them, as more expressive of their 
common relation to their Master, Christ. Whitby slightly alludes to the prophecy, 
Isa. lxv." (J. M. Williams's Notes on Pearson.) 

While Saul was thus effectually laboring in Antioch, there 
came down to that city, from Jerusalem, certain persons, indued 
with the spirit of prophecy, among whom was one, named Aga- 
bus, who, under the influence of inspiration, made known that 
there would be a great famine throughout the world ; — a predic- 
tion which was verified by the actual occurrence of this calamity 
in the days of Claudius Caesar, during whose reign, — as appears 
on the impartial testimony of the historians of those times, both 
Roman and Jewish, — the Roman empire suffered at different peri- 
ods in all its parts, from the capital to Jerusalem, — and at this 
latter city, more especially, in the sixth year of Claudius, (A. D. 
46,) as is testified by Josephus, who narrates very particularly 
some circumstances connected with the prevalence of this famine 
in Jerusalem. The disciples at Antioch, availing themselves of 
this information, determined to send relief to their brethren in 
Judea, before the famine should come on ; and having contrib- 



488 



SAUL. 



uted, each one according to his ability, they made Barnabas and 
Saul the messengers of their charity, who were accordingly dis- 
patched to Jerusalem, on this noble errand. They remained in 
Jerusalem through the period of Agrippa's attack upon the apos- 
tles by murdering James, and imprisoning Peter ; but they do 
not seem to have been any way immediately concerned in these 
events ; and when Peter had escaped, they returned to Antioch. 
How long they remained here, is not recorded ; but the date of 
subsequent events seems to imply that it was a space of some 
years, during which they labored at Antioch in company with 
several other eminent prophets and teachers, of whom are men- 
tioned Simeon, who had the Roman surname of Niger, Lucius, 
the Cyrenian, and Manaen, a foster-brother of Herod the tetrarch. 
During their common ministrations, at a season of fasting, they 
received a direction from the spirit of truth which guided them, 
to set apart Saul and Barnabas for the special work to which the 
Lord had called them. This work was of course understood to 
be that for which Saul in particular, had, at his conversion, been 
so remarkably commissioned, — "to open the eyes of the Gen- 
tiles, — to turn them from darkness to light, and from the do- 
minion of Satan to God." His brethren in the ministry there- 
fore, understanding at once the nature and object of the sum- 
mons, now specially consecrated both him and Barnabas for their 
missionary work ; and after fasting and praying, they invoked on 
them the blessing of God, in the usual oriental form of laying 
their hands on them, and then bade them farewell. 

"That this famine was felt chiefly in Judea may be conjectured with great reason 
from the nature of the context, for we find that the disciples are resolving to send re- 
lief to the elders in Judea ; consequently they must have understood that those in Ju- 
dea would suffer more than themselves. Joseph us declared that this famine raged 
so much there, irnX'X&v rm6 hfoias dvaXu/iOTwv ty&eipopipwv, ' so that many perished for 
want of victuals.' " 

'"Throughout the whole world/ vaaav rfiv ohnpivtjv, is first to be understood, orbis 
terrarum habitabilis : Demosth. inCoron. iEschines contr. Ctesiph. Scapula. Then 
the Roman and other empires were styled oiKsfiivr], 'the world.' Thus Isaiah xiv. 17, 
26, the counsel of God against the empire of Babylon, is called his counsel, hi rfiv 
ZKnv ohuiiivrtv, 'against all the earth/ — (Elsley, Whitby.) Accordingly Eusebius says 
of this famine, that it oppressed almost the whole empire. And as for the truth of the 
prophecy, this dearth is recorded by historians most averse to our religion, viz., by 
Suetonius in the life of Claudius, chap. 18, who informs us that it happened 'ob as- 
siduas sterilitates ;' and Dion. Cassius Hist. lib. lx. p. 146, that it was Xi/iej lcx v p°s, ' a 
very great famine.' Whitby's Annot. Doddridge enumerates nine famines in va- 
rious years, and parts of the empire, in the reign of Claudius; but the first was the 
most severe, and affected particularly Judea, and is that here meant." (J. M. Will- 
iams's notes on Pearson.) 

HIS FIRST APOSTOLIC MISSION. 

Going from Antioch directly eastward to the sea, they came to 



SAUL. 



489 



Seleucia, the nearest port, only twelve miles from Anlioch, and 
there embarked for the island of Cyprus, the eastern end of which 
is not more than eighty miles from the coast of Syria. The cir- 
cumstance that more particularly directed them first to this island, 
was probably that it was the native home of Barnabas, and with 
this region therefore he wquld feel so much acquainted as to know 
its peculiar wants, and the facilities which it afforded for the ad- 
vancement of the Christian cause ; and he would also know 
where he might look for the most favorable reception. Landing 
at Sal amis, on the south-eastern part of the island, they first 
preached in the synagogues of the Jews, who were very numer- 
ous in Cyprus, and constituted so large a part of the population 
of the island, that some years afterwards they attempted to get 
complete possession of it, and were put down only by the mas- 
sacre of many thousands. Directing their efforts first to these 
wandering sheep of the house of Israel, the apostles everywhere 
preached the gospel in the synagogues, never forsaking the Jews 
for the Gentiles, until they had been driven away by insult and 
injury, that thus the ruin of their nation might lie, not upon the 
apostles, but upon them only, for their rejection of the repeated of- 
fers of salvation. Here, it would seem, they were joined by John 
Mark, the nephew of Barnabas, who was probably staying upon 
the island at that time, and who now accompanied them as an as- 
sistant in their apostolic ministry. Traversing the whole island 
from east to west, they came to Paphos, a splendid city near the 
western end, famed for the magnificent temple and lascivious wor- 
ship of the Paphian Venus, a deity to whom all Cyprus was con- 
secrated ; and from it she derived one of her numerous appella- 
tives, Cypris being a name under which she was frequently wor- 
shipped ; and the females of the island generally, were so com- 
pletely devoted to her service, not merely in temple-worship, but 
in life and manners, that throughout the world, the name Cypri- 
an woman, even to this day, is but a polite expression for one 
abandoned to wantonness and pleasure. The worship of this 
lascivious goddess, the apostles now came to exterminate, and to 
plant in its stead the dominion of a faith, whose essence is purity 
of heart and action. At this place, preaching the gospel with open- 
ness, they soon attracted such general notice, that the report of 
their remarkable character soon reached the ears of the procon- 
sul of Cyprus, then resident in Paphos. This great Roman gov- 
ernor, by name Sergius Paulus, was a man of intelligence and 



490 



SAUL. 



probity, and hearing of the apostles, soon summoned them to his 
presence, that he might have the satisfaction of hearing from, 
them, in his own hall, a full exposition of the doctrine which they 
called the word of God. This they did with such energy and 
efficiency, that they won his attention and regard; and he was 
about to profess his faith in Jesus, when a new obstacle to the 
success of the gospel was presented in the conduct of one of 
those present at the discourse. This was an impostor, called 
Elymas, — a name which seems to be a Greek form of the Orien- 
tal u Alim" meaning "a magician," — who had, by his tricks, 
gained a great renown throughout that region, and was received 
into high favor by the proconsul himself, with whom he was 
then staying. The rogue, apprehending the nature of the doc- 
trines taught, by the apostles to be no way agreeable to the schemes 
of self-advancement which he was so successfully pursuing, was 
not a little alarmed when he saw that they were taking hold of 
the mind of the proconsul, and therefore undertook to resist the 
preaching of the apostles ; and attempted to argue the noble con- 
vert into a contempt of these new teachers. At this, Saul, (now 
first called Paul,) fixing his eyes on the miserable impostor, in a 
burst of inspired indignation, denounced on him an awful pun- 
ishment for his resistance of the truth. " O, full of all guile and 
all tricks ! son of the devil ! enemy of all honesty ! wilt thou not 
stop perverting the ways of the Lord ? And now, lo ! the hand 
of the Lord is on thee, and thou shalt be blind, not seeing the sun 
for a time." And immediately there fell on him a mist and a 
darkness ; and turning around, he sought some persons to lead 
him by the hand. At the sight of this manifest and appalling 
miracle, thus following the denunciation of the apostle, the pro- 
consul was so struck, that he no longer delayed for a moment his 
profession of faith in the religion whose power was thus attested, 
but believed in the doctrine of Jesus, as communicated by his 
apostles. 

" Seleucia was a little north-west of Antioch, upon the Mediterranean sea, named 
from its founder, Seleucus. — Cyprus, so called from the flower of the Cypress-trees 
growing there. — Pliny, lib. xii. cap. 24. — Eustath. In Dionys. p. 110. It was an isl- 
and, having on the east the Syrian, on the west the Pamphylian, on the south the 
Phoenician, on the north the Cilician sea. It was celebrated among the heathens 
for its fertility as being sufficiently provided with all things within itself. Strabo, 
lib. xiv. 468, 469. It was very infamous for the worship of Venus, who had thence 
her name Kurrpt?. It was memorable among the Jews as being an island in which 
they so much abounded; and among Christians for being the place where Joses, 
called Barnabas, had the land he sold, Acts iv. 36 ; and where Mnason, an old disci- 
ple, lived; Acts xxi. 16.— (Whitby's Table.) Salamis was once a famous city of 
Cyprus, opposite to Seleucia, on the Syrian coast.— (Wells.) It was in the eastern 



PAUL. 491 

part of Cyprus. It was famous among the Greek writers for the story of the Dragon 
killed by Chycreas, their king ; and for the death of Anaxarchus, whom Nicocreon, 
the tyrant of that island, pounded to death with iron pestles. — (Bochart. Canaan, lib. 
i. c. 2 — Laert, lib. ix. p. 579.) Williams's Pearson. 

Proconsul. — The Greek title ArS-warcs, was applied only to those governors of 
provinces who were invested with proconsular dignity. ' And on the supposition that 
Cyprus was not a province of this description, it has been inferred that the title 
given to Sergius Paulus in this place, was a title that did not properly belong to him. 
A passage has indeed been quoted from Dion Cassius, (His. Rom. lib. liv. p. 523, ed. 
Hanoviae, 1690,) who, speaking of the governors of Cyprus and some other Roman 
provinces, applies to them the same title which is applied to Sergius Paulus. But, as 
Dion Cassius is speaking of several Roman provinces at the same time, one of which 
was certainly governed by a proconsul, it has been supposed, that for the sake of 
brevity, he used one term for all of them, whether it applied to all of them or not. 
That Cyprus, however, ought to be excluded, and that the title which he employed, 
as well as St. Luke, really did belong to the Roman governors of Cyprus, appears 
from the inscription on a coin belonging to Cyprus itself. It belonged to the people 
of that island as appears from the word KYlTPliiN on the reverse : and, though not 
struck while Sergius Paulus himself was governor, it was struck, as appears from 
the inscription on the reverse, in the time of Proclus, who was next to Sergius Pau- 
lus in the government of Cyprus. And, on this coin the same title AN6YI1AT02, is 
given to Proclus, which St. Luke gives Sergius Paulus.' (Bp. Marsh's Lect. part v. 
pp. 85, 86.) That Cyprus was a proconsulate, is also evident Irom an ancient in- 
scription of Caligula's reign, in which Aquius Scaura is called the proconsul of Cy- 
prus. (Gruteri Corpus Inscriptionem, torn. i. part ii. p ; cccix. No. 3, edit. Graevii 
Amst. 1707.) Home's Introd. 

HIS CHANGE OP NAME. 

In connection with this first miracle of the apostle of Tarsus, 
it is mentioned by the historian of the Acts of the Apostles, that 
Saul thenceforth bore the name of Paul, and the reader is thence 
fairly led to suppose, that the name was taken from that of Sergi- 
us Paul, who is the most important personage concerned in the 
event ; and being the first eminent man who is specified as hav- 
ing been converted by the apostle, seems therefore to deserve, in 
this case, the honor of conferring a new name on the wonder- 
working Saul. This coincidence between the name and the oc- 
casion, may be justly esteemed sufficient ground for assuming 
this as the true origin of the name by which the apostle was ever 
after designated, — which he applies to himself in his writings, 
and by which he is always mentioned throughout the Christian 
world, in all ages. With the name of " Saul of Tarsus," there 
were too many evil associations already inseparably connected, 
in the minds of all the Jewish inhabitants of the east, and the 
troublesome character of those prevalent impressions having been 
perhaps particularly obvious to the apostle, during his first mis- 
sionary tour, he seized this honorable occasion, to exchange it for 
one that had no such evil associations ; and he was therefore af- 
terwards known only by the name of PAUL. 

Embarking at Paphos, the apostles, after doubling cape Acamas, 
the most western point of the island, sailed northwestward, towards 



492 



PAUL. 



the northern coast of Asia Minor, — and after a voyage of about 
two hundred miles, reached Perga, a city in Pamphylia. This 
place was not a sea-port, but stood on the west bank of the river 
Oestrus, about eight miles from the sea. It was there built by the 
Attaliau kings of south-western Asia, and was by them made the 
most splendid city of Pamphylia. Near the town, and on a rising 
ground, was a very famous temple of Diana, to which every year 
resorted a grand religious assembly, to celebrate the worship of 
this great Asian goddess. In such a strong hold of heathenism, 
the apostles must have found much occasion for the preaching of 
the gospel ; but the historian of their Acts gives no account of 
anything here said or done by them, and only mentions that at 
this place their companion, John Mark, gave up his ministration 
with them, and returned to Jerusalem. Paul and Barnabas then 
went on without him, to the north, and proceeded, without any 
material delay, directly through Pamphylia, and over the ranges of 
Taurus, through Pisidia, into Phrygia Katakekaumene, where 
they made some stay at the city of Antioch, which was distin- 
guished from the great capital of Syria bearing the same royal 
name, by being called " Antioch of Pisidia," because, though real- 
ly within the boundaries of Phrygia, it was often numbered among 
the cities of the province next south, near whose borders it stood, 
and was therefore associated with the towns of Pisidia by those 
who lived south and east of them. At this place the apostles 
probably arrived towards the last of the week, and reposing here 
on the sabbath, they went into the Jewish synagogue, along with 
the usual worshiping assembly, and took their seats quietly 
among the rest. After the regular service of the day (consisting 
of the reading of select portions of the law and the prophets) was 
over, the minister of the synagogue, according to custom, gave an 
invitation to the apostles to preach to the people, if they felt dis- 
posed to do so. It should be noticed, that in the Jewish syna- 
gogues, there was no regular person appointed to preach, the min- 
ister being only a sort of reader, who conducted the devotions of 
the meeting, and chanted the lessons from the Scriptures, as ar- 
ranged for each sabbath. When these regular duties were over, 
the custom was to invite a discourse from any person disposed or 
qualified to address the people, — the whole being always thus con- 
ducted somewhat on the plan of a modern " conference meeting." 
On this day, the minister, noticing two grave and intelligent- 
looking persons among the worshipers, joining devoutly in the 



paul. 493 

service of God, and perceiving them to be of a higher order than 
most of the assembly, or perhaps having received a previous hint 
of the fact that they were well-qualified religious teachers, who 
had valuable doctrines to communicate to the people, — sent word 
to them, " Brethren ! if you have any word of exhortation for 
the people, say on." Paul then, — -as usual, taking the precedence 
of Barnabas in speaking, on account of his own superior endow- 
ments as an orator, — addressed the meeting, beginning with the 
usual form of words, accompanied with a graceful gesticulation, 
beseeching their favor. " Men of Israel ! and you that fear 
God ! give your attention." The two different classes of persons 
included in this formula, are evidently, first, those who were Jews 
by birth and education, and second, those devout Gentiles who 
reverenced the God of Israel and conformed to the law of Moses, 
worshiping with the Jews on the sabbath. Paul, in his sermon, 
which was of considerable length, began in the usual form of an 
apostolic discourse to the Jews, by recurring to the early Hebrew 
history, and running over the great leading events and persons 
mentioned in their sacred writings, that might be considered as 
preparing the way for the Messiah. Then, proceeding to the nar- 
ration of the most important points in the history of the new dis- 
pensation, he applied all the quoted predictions of the inspired 
men of old, to the man Christ Jesus, whom they now preached. 
The substance of his discourse was, that in Jesus Christ were fully 
accomplished those splendid prophecies contained in the Psalms, 
concerning the future glories of the line of David ; and more es- 
pecially that by his attested resurrection he had fulfilled the words 
spoken by the Psalmist, of the triumphs of the " Holy One" over 
the grave and corruption. Paul thus concluded, — " Be it known 
to you therefore, brethren, that through this man is preached to 
you forgiveness of sins ; and every one that believes in him is 
justified from all things, from which you could not be justified by 
the law of Moses. Beware therefore, lest that come upon you 
which is spoken by the prophets, — ' See ! you despisers ! and won- 
der and be amazed ; for I will do a work in your days, which you 
shall not believe, even if one should tell it to you.' " These de- 
nunciatory concluding words are from the prophet Habakkuk, 
where he is foretelling to the Israelites of his day, the devastating 
invasion of the Chaldeans; and the apostle in quoting them, 
aimed to impress his hearers with the certainty of similar evils to 
fall upon their nation, — evils so tremendous, that they might nat- 

63 



494 



PAUL, 



urally disbelieve the warning, if it should give them the awful 
particulars of the coming rain, but whose solemn truth they 
would, nevertheless, too soon learn in its actual accomplishment, 
These words being directed in a rather bitter tone of warning to 
the Jews in particular, that portion of the audience do not appear 
to have been much pleased with his address; but while the most of 
them were retiring from the synagogue, the Gentiles declared 
their high satisfaction with the discourse, and expressed an ear- 
nest desire that it might be repeated to them on the next sabbath, 
— a request with which ministers in these modern times are very 
rarely complimented by their congregations. After the meeting 
broke up, many of the audience were so loth to part with preachers 
of this extraordinary character, that they followed the apostles to 
their lodgings. These were mostly the religious proselytes from 
the heathen who worshiped with the Jews in the synagogue, but 
some even of the Jews were so well satisfied with what they had 
heard, that they also accompanied the throng that followed the 
apostles. Paul and Barnabas did not surfer this occasion to pass 
unimproved ; but as they went along, discoursed to the company, 
exhorting them to stand fast in the grace of God. They contin- 
ued in the city through the week, and meanwhile the fame of 
their doctrines and their eloquence extended so fast and so far, 
that when on the next sabbath they went to the synagogue to 
preach according to promise, almost the whole city came pouring 
in, along with them, to hear the word of God. But when the 
Jews, who had already been considerably displeased by the man- 
ner in which they had been addressed the last sabbath, saw the 
multitudes which were thronging to hear these new interlopers, 
they were filled with envy, and when Paul renewed his discourse, 
they openly disputed him, — denied his conclusions, and abused 
him, and his doctrine. Paul and Barnabas, justly indignant at 
this exhibition of meanness, that thus set itself against the pro- 
gress of the truth among the Gentiles, from whom the Jews, not 
content with rejecting the gospel themselves, would also exclude 
the light of the word, — boldly declared to them — "It was neces- 
sary that the word of God should be first spoken to you ; but since 
you have cast it off, and thus evince yourselves unworthy of ev- 
erlasting life, — behold, we turn to the heathen. For thus did 
God command us, ' I have set thee for a light to the heathen, that 
thou mightest be for their salvation, even to the uttermost part of 
the earth.' " And the heathen hearing this, rejoiced, and glorified 



paul. 495 

the word of the Lord, and many of them believed, to their ever- 
lasting salvation. And the word of God was spread throughout 
that whole country ; but the opposition of the Jews increasing in 
proportion to the progress of the faith of Christ, a great disturb- 
ance was raised against the apostles among the aristocracy of the 
city, who favored the Jews, and more especially among the wo- 
men of high family, who were proselytes ; and the result of the 
commotion was, that the apostles were driven out of the city. 
Paul and Barnabas, in conformity to the original injunction of Jesus 
to the twelve, shook off the dust of their feet, as an expressive testi- 
mony against them, — and turning eastward, came to another city, 
named Iconium, in Lycaonia, the most eastern province of Phrygia. 

Lycaonia is a province of Asia Minor, accounted the southern part of Cappadocia, 
having Isauria on the west, Armenia Minor on the east, and Cilicia on the south. Its 
chief cities are all mentioned in this chapter x'.v. viz., Iconium, Lystra, and Derbe. 
They spake in the Lycaonian tongue, v. 10, which is generally understood to have 
been a corrupt Greek, intermingled with many Syriac words. — Home's Intro, 

Iconium was the capital of Lycaonia, and is mentioned by the 
Grecian and Roman writers, before and after the apostolic times, 
as a place of some importance ; but nothing definite is known of 
its size and character. It appears, at any rate, from the apostolic 
record, that this flourishing city was one of the numerous centers 
of the Jewish population, that filled so much of Asia Minor ; and 
here, according to their custom, the apostles made their first com- 
munication of the gospel, in the Jewish synagogue. Entering 
this place of worship, they spoke with such effect, that a great 
number both of Greeks and Jews were thoroughly convinced of 
the truth of the Christian doctrine, and professed their faith in Je- 
sus. But, as usual, there was in Iconium a great residue of big- 
oted adherents to the Mosaic faith, who could appreciate neither 
the true scope of the ancient dispensation, nor the perfection of 
gospel truth ; and a set of these fellows undertook to make trouble 
for the apostles, in the same way that it had been done at the Pi- 
sidian Antioch. Not having power or influence enough among 
themselves to effect any great mischief, they were obliged to re- 
sort to the expedient of exciting the ill-will of the Gentile inhab- 
itants and rulers of the city, against the objects of their mischiev- 
ous designs, — and in this instance were successful, inasmuch as 
" they made their minds disaffected against the brethren." But 
in spite of all this opposition, thus powerfully manifested, " long 
time they abode there, speaking boldly in the Lord," who did not 
fail to give them the ever-promised support of his presence, but 



496 paul. 

" gave testimony to the word of his grace, and caused signs and 
miracles to be done by their hands." The immediate effect of this 
bold maintenance of the truth was, that they soon made a strong 
impression on the feelings of the mass of the people, and created 
among them a disposition to defend the preachers of the word of 
heavenly grace, against^the malice of their haters. The conse- 
quence of eourse was, that the whole city was directly divided 
into two great parties, one for and the other against the apostles. 
On one hand the supporters of the Jewish faction were bent upon 
driving out the innovators from the city, and on the other, the 
numerous audiences, who had been interested in the preaching 
of Paul and Barnabas, were perfectly determined to stand by the 
apostles at all hazards, and the whole city seems to have been on 
the eve of a regular battle about this difference. But it did not 
suit the apostles' scheme to make use of such means for their own 
advancement or defence ; and hearing that a grand crisis in af- 
fairs was approaching, in the opposition of the Jewish faction, 
they took the resolution of evading the difficulty, by withdrawing 
themselves quietly from the scene of commotion, in which there 
was but very little prospect of being useful, just then. The whole 
gang of their opponents, both Gentiles and Jews, rulers and com- 
monalty, having turned out for the express purpose of executing 
popular vengeance on these odious agitators, by abusing and pelt- 
ing them, the apostles, on getting notice of the scheme, moved off, 
before the mob could lay hands on them, and soon got beyond 
their reach, in other cities. 

These fugitives from popular vengeance, after having so nar- 
rowly escaped being sacrificed to public opinion, turned their 
course southward, and stopped next on their adventurous route at 
the city of Lystra, also within Lycaonia, where they preached the 
gospel, and not only in the city and its immediate vicinity, but 
also throughout the whole surrounding region, and in the neigh- 
boring towns. In the progress of their labors in Lystra, they one 
day were preaching in the presence of a man who had been lame 
from his birth, being in exactly the same predicament with the 
cripple who was the subject of the first miracle of Peter and 
John, in the temple. This unfortunate auditor of Paul and 
Barnabas believed the word of truth which they preached ; and 
as he sat among the rest, being noticed by the former apostle, was 
recognized as a true believer. Looking earnestly on him, Paul, 
without questioning him at all as to his faith, said to him at once, 



paul. 497 

in a loud voice, " Rise, and stand on thy feet." Instantly the man 
sprang up, and walked. When the people saw this amazing and 
palpable miracle, they cried out, in their Lycaonian dialect, " The 
gods are come down to us in the likeness of men." Struck with 
this notion, they immediately sought to designate the individual 
deities who had thus honored the city of Lystra with their pre- 
sence ; and at once recognized in the stately form, and solemn, si- 
lent majesty of Barnabas, the awful front of Jupiter, the Fa- 
ther of all the gods ; and as for the lively, mercurial person at- 
tending- upon him, and acting, on all occasions, as the spokesman, 
with such vivid, burning eloquence, — who could he be but the at- 
tendant and agent of Jupiter, Hermes, the god of eloquence and 
of travelers ? Full of this conceit, and anxious to testify their 
devout sense of this condescension, the citizens bustled about, 
and with no small parade brought out a solemn sacrificial proces- 
sion, with oxen and garlands, headed by the priests of Jupiter, 
and were proceeding to offer a sacrifice in solemn form to the di- 
vine personages who had thus veiled their dignity in human 
shape, when the apostles, horror-struck at this degrading exhibi- 
tion of the idolatrous spirit against which they were warring, 
and without a single sensation of pride or gratitude for this great 
compliment done them, ran in among the people, rending their 
clothes in the significant and fantastic gesture of true Orientals, 
and cried out with great earnestness, " Sirs ! what do you mean % 
We also are men of like constitutions with yourselves, and we 
preach to you with the express intent that you should turn from 
these follies to the living God, who made heaven and earth and 
sea, and all that is in them. — He, indeed, in times past, left all na- 
tions to walk in their own ways. Yet he left himself not wholly 
without witness of his being and goodness, in that he did good, 
and gave us rain from heaven, and fruitful seasons, filling our 
hearts with food and gladness." With these words of splendid 
eloquence and magnificent conception bursting from their lips in 
the inspiration of the moment, — the apostles, with no small ado, 
stopped the idolatrous folly of the Lystrans, who probably felt 
and looked very silly, when the mistake into which they had been 
drawn by a mere mob-cry, was shown to them. Indignant, not 
so much at themselves, who alone were truly blamable for the er- 
ror, as against the persons who were the nobly innocent occasions 
of it, — they were in a state of feeling to overbalance this piece of 
extravagance by another,— much more wicked, because it was not 



498 



PATJL* 



mere nonsense, but downright cruelty. When, therefore, certain 
spiteful Jews came to Lystra from Antioch and Iconium, from 
which places they had been hunting, like hounds, on the track of 
the apostles, and told their abusive lies to the people about the 
character of these two strange travelers, the foolish Lystrans were 
easily persuaded to crown their absurdity by falling upon Paul, 
who seemed to be the person most active in the business. Hav- 
ing seized him, before he could slip out of their hands, as he usu- 
ally did from his persecutors, they pelted him with such effect 
that he fell down as if dead ; and they, with no small alacrity, 
dragged him out of the city as a mere carcase. But the mob 
had hardly dispersed, when he rose up, to the great wonder of 
the brethren who stood mourning about him, and went back with 
them into the city. The whole of this interesting series of events 
is a firm testimony to the honesty of the apostolic narrative, ex- 
hibiting, as it does, so fairly, the most natural, and at the same 
time, the most contemptible tendencies of the human character. 
Never was there given such a beautiful illustration of the value 
and moral force of public opinion ! unless, perhaps, in the very 
similar case of Jesus, in Jerusalem : — " Hosarma," to-day, and 
" Crucify him," to-morrow. One moment, exalting the apostles 
to the name and honors of the highest of all the gods ; the next, 
pelting them through the streets, and kicking them out of the 
city as a nuisance. The Bible is everywhere found to be just 
so bitterly true to human nature, and the whole world cannot fur- 
nish a story in which the character and moral value of popular 
movements are better exhibited than in the adventures of the 
apostles, as recorded by Luke. 

Acts xiv. 12. " It has been inquired why the Lystrans suspected that Paul and 
Barnabas were Mercury and Jupiter 1 To this it may be answered, 1st. that the an- 
cients supposed the gods especially visited those cities which were sacred to thern. 
Now from ver. 13, it appears that Jupiter was worshiped among these people ; and 
that Mercury too was, there is no reason to doubt, considering how general his wor- 
ship would be in so commercial a tract of Maritime Asia. (Gughling de Paulo 
Mercurio, p. 9, and Walch Spic Antiq. Lystr. p. 9.) How then was it that the priest 
of Mercury did not also appear'? This would induce one rather to suppose that there 
was no temple to Mercury at Lystra. Probably the worship of that god was confined 
to the sea-Goast ; whereas Lystra was in the interior and mountainous country. 2. 
It appears from mythological history, that Jupiter was thought to generally descend 
on earth accompanied by Mercury. See Plaut. Amphytr. 1, 1, 1. Ovid. Met. 8, 626, 
and Fast. 5, 495. 3. It was a very common story, and no doubt, familiar to the Lys- 
trans, that Jupiter and Mercury formerly traversed Phrygia together, and were 
received by Philemon and Baucis. (See Ovid. Met. 8, 611, Gelpke in Symbol, ad 
Interp. Acl. xiv. 12.) Mr. Harrington has yet more appositely observed, (in his Works, 
p. 330,) that this persuasion might gain the more easily on the minds of the Lycaoni- 
ans, on account of the well-known fable of Jupiter and Mercury, who were said to 
have descended from heaven in human shape, and to have been entertained by Lyca- 
on, from whom the Lycaonians received their name. 



PAUL, 



499 



"But it has been further inquired why they took Barnabas for Jupiter, and Paul 
for Mercury. Chrysostom observes, (and after him Mr. Fleming, Christol. Vol. II. 
p. 226,) that the heathens represented Jupiter as an old but vigorous man, of a noble 
and majestic aspect, and a large robust make, which therefore he supposes might be 
the form of Barnabas ; whereas Mercury appeared young, little, and nimble, as Paul 
might probably do, since he was yet in his youth. A more probable reason, however, 
and indeed the true one, (as given by Luke,) is, that Paul was so named, because he 
was the leading speaker. Now it was well known that Mercury was the god of elo- 
quence. So Hor. Carm. 1, 10, 1. Mercuri facunde nepos Atlantis Qui feros cultus 
hominum recentum Voce formasti cantus. Ovid. Fast. 5, 688. Macrob. Sat. 8, 8. 
Hence he is called by Jamblich. de Myst. 6tb s 'o rwv A<5ywv hyt^v, a passage exactly the 
counterpart to the present one, which we may render, ' for he had led the discourse.'" 
(Bloomfield's Annot. N. T. Vol. IV. c. xiv. § 12.) 

" They called Paul Mercury, because he was the chief speaker," ver. 12. Mercu- 
ry was the god of eloquence. Justin Martyr says Paul is \6yoi ipixrjvevTiKbs kuI itdvTwy 
Si8d<rKa\os, the word ; that is, the interpreter and teacher of all men. Ap. ii. p. 67. Phi- 
lo informs us that Mercury is called Hermes, ws 'Ep/^vr'a Kal npo<pt'iTriv r5v Seiiav, as be- 
ing the interpreter and prophet of divine things, apud. Euseb. Praep. Evang. Lib. iii. c. 
2. He is called by Porphyry napaaTariKos, the exhibitor or representor of reason and el- 
oquence. Seneca says he was called Mercury, quia ratio penes ilium est. De Benef. 
Lib. iv. cap. 7. — Calmet, Whitby, Stackhouse. 

All this pelting and outcry, however, made not the slightest im- 
pression on Paul and Barnabas, nor had the effect of deterring 
them from the work, which they had so unpropitiously carried on. 
Knowing, as they did, how popular violence always exhausts it- 
self in its frenzy, they without hesitation immediately returned by 
the same route over which they had been just driven by such a 
succession of popular outrages. The day after Paul had been 
stoned and stunned by the people of Lystra, he left that city with 
Barnabas, and both directed their course eastward to Derbe, where 
they preached the gospel and taught many. Then turning di- 
rectly back, they came again to Lystra, then to Iconium, and then 
to Antioch, in all of which cities they had just been so shame- 
fully treated. In each of these places, they sought to strengthen 
the faith of the disciples, earnestly exhorting them to continue in 
the Christian course, and warning them that they must expect to 
attain the blessings of the heavenly kingdom, only through much 
trial and suffering. On this return journey they now formally 
constituted regular worshiping assemblies of Christians in all 
the places from which they had before been so tumultuously driven 
as to be prevented from perfecting their good work, — ordaining el- 
ders in every church thus constituted, and solemnly, with fasting 
and prayer, commending them to the Lord on whom they believed. 
Still keeping the same route on which they had come, they now 
turned southward into Pamphylia, and came again to Perga. 
From this place, they went down to Attalia, a great city south of 
Perga, on the coast of Pamphylia, founded by Attains Philadel- 
phus, king of Pergamus. At this port, they embarked for the coast 



500 



PAUJ 



of Syria, and soon arrived at Antioch, from which they had been 
commended to the favor of God, on this adventurous journey. On 
their arrival, the whole church was gathered to hear the story of 
their doings and sufferings, and to this eager assembly, the apos- 
tles then recounted all that happened to them in the providence of 
God, their labors, their trials, dangers, and hair-breadth escapes, 
and the crowning successes in which all these providences had 
resulted ; and more especially did they set forth in what a signal 
manner, during this journey, the door of Christ's kingdom had 
been opened to the Gentiles, after the rejection of the truth by the 
unbelieving Jews ; and thus happily ended Paul's first great 

APOSTOLIC MISSION. 

Bishop Pearson here allots three years for these journeys of the apostles, viz. 45, 
46, and 47, and something more. But Calmet, Tillemont, Dr. Lardner, Bishop Tom- 
line, and Dr. Hales, allow two years for this purpose, viz. 45 and 46; which period 
corresponds with our Bible chronology. (Williams on Pearson.) 

THE DISPUTES ON THE CIRCUMCISION. 

The great apostle of the Gentiles now made Antioch his home, 
and resided there for many years, during which the church grew 
prosperously. But at last some persons came down from Jerusa- 
lem, to observe the progress which the new Gentile converts were 
making in the faith ; and found, to their great horror, that all 
were going on their Christian course, in utter disregard of the an- 
cient ordinances of the holy Mosaic covenant, neglecting altogeth- 
er even that grand seal of salvation, which had been enjoined on 
Abraham and all the faithful who should share in the blessings 
of the promise made to him ; they therefore took these back- 
sliders and loose converts, to task, for their irregularities in this 
matter, and said to them, " Unless you be circumcised acccording 
to the Mosaic usage, you can not be saved." This denunciation 
of eternal ruin on the Gentile non-conformists, of course made a 
great commotion among the Antiochians, who had been so hope- 
fully progressing in the pure, spiritual faith of Christ, — and were 
not prepared by any of the instructions which they had received 
from their apostolic teachers, for any such stiff subjection to te- 
dious rituals. Nor were Paul and Barnabas slow in resisting this 
vile imposition upon those who were just rejoicing in the glorious 
light and freedom of the gospel ; and they at once therefore, reso- 
lutely opposed the attempts of the bigoted Judaizers to bring them 
under the servitude of the yoke which not even the Jews them- 
selves were able to bear. After much wrangling on -this knotty 



PAUL. 501 

point, it was determined to make a united reference of the whole 
question to the apostles and elders at Jerusalem, and that Paul 
and Barnabas should be the messengers of the Antiochian church, 
in this consultation. They accordingly set out, escorted beyond 
the city by the church ; and passing first directly southward, 
along the Phoenician coast, they next turned inland through Sa- 
maria, everywhere visiting the churches on the route, and ma- 
king known to them the joyful story of the conversions among 
the Gentiles of Asia Minor, which was news to the Christians of 
Palestine, and caused great congratulations among them, at these 
unexpected triumphs of their common faith. Arriving at Jerusa- 
lem, they there, for the first time, gave to the twelve apostles, a 
detailed account of their Ions: Asian mission : and then brought 
forward the grand question under debate. As soon as this point 
was presented, all the obstinate Jewish prejudices of that portion 
of the church who were of the order of the Pharisees, were in- 
stantly aroused, — and with great earnestness they insisted " that it 
was necessary to circumcise them, and to command them to keep 
the law of Moses." This first meeting however, adjourned with- 
out coming to any conclusion ; and the apostles and elders were 
called together again to consider upon the matter. As soon as 
they were assembled they all fell to disputing with great violence, 
and, of course, with no decisive or profitable result ; but at last 
the great apostolic chief rising up, ended the debate with a very 
clear statement of the results of his own personal experience of 
the divine guidance in this matter, and with brief but decisive el- 
oquence hushed their clamors, that they might give Barnabas and 
Paul a chance to declare in what manner God had sanctioned 
their similar course. The two apostles of the Gentiles then nar- 
rated what miracles and wonders God had wrought among the 
heathen by them. Such was the decisive effect of their exposi- 
tion of these matters of fact, that all debate was checked at once; 
and James himself, the great leader of the Judaical order, rose to 
express his perfect acquiescence in the decision of the apostolic 
chief and the Hellenists. His opinion was, that only so much con- 
formity to the Mosaic institutions should be required of the Gen- 
tile converts, as they might without inconvenience submit to, out 
of respect to the old covenant, and such observances as were ne- 
cessary for the moral purity of a professing Christian of any na- 
tion. The whole assembly concurred ; and it was resolved to 
dispatch two selectr persons out of their own company, to accom- 

64 



502 PAUL. 

pany Paul and Barnabas to Antioch, and thus by their special 
commission, enforce the decision of the apostolic and presbyterial 
council. The decision of the council was therefore committed to 
writing, in a letter which bore high testimony to the zeal and 
courage of Barnabas and Paul, as " men who had hazarded their 
lives for the sake of the gospel," — and it was announced as the in- 
spired decision of the apostles, elders and brethren, that the Gen- 
tile converts should not be troubled with any greater burden than 
these necessary things : — " That you abstain from things offered 
to idols, and from blood, and from things strangled, and from for- 
nication ;" and if they should only keep themselves from these, 
they would do well. Jude and Silas were the envoys commis- 
sioned with the charge of this epistle, and accordingly accompa- 
nied Paul and Barnabas back to Antioch. 

"Those who maintained this position were Jews, of the sect of the Pharisees, Acts, 
xv. 5, converted to Christianity, but still too zealous for the observance of the law; 
and their coming immediately from Judea might make it rather believed, that the ne- 
cessity of circumcision, in order to salvation, was a tenet of the apostles. The Jews 
themselves indeed were of different opinions in this matter, even as to the admission 
of a man into their religion. For some of them would allow those of other nations 
who owned the true God, and practised moral duties, to live quietly among them, and 
even without circumcision, to be admitted into their religion; whilst others were deci- 
dedly opposed to any such thing. Thus Josephus tells us that when Izates,the son of 
Helen, queen of Adiabene, embraced the Jews' religion, Ananias, who converted 
him, declared that he might do it without circumcision; but Eleazer, another emi- 
nent Jew, maintained, that it was a greai impiety in such circumstances, to remain 
uncircumcised ; and this difference of opinion continued among the Jewish Christian 
converts, some allowing Gentiles to become converts to Christianity, without submit- 
ting to circumcision and the Jewish law : whilst others contended that without cir- 
cumcision, and the observance of the law, their profession of the Christian faith 
would not save them." {Stackhouse from Whitby and Beausobre.) 

" It is very evident, that this is the same journey to which the apostle alludes in 
Gal. ii. First, from the agreement of the history here and the apostle's relation in 
the epistle, as that ' he communicated to them the gospel, which he preached among 
the Gentiles,' Gal. ii. 2. which he now did, Acts xv. 4. That circumcision was not 
then judged necessary to the Gentiles, ver. 3, as we find, Acts xv. 24.,. 'that, when 
they saw the gospel of uncircumcision was committed to him, they gave to him and 
Barnabas the right hand of fellowship,' Gal. ii. 9., as they did here, sending their 
very decree with one consent to the Gentiles, ' by the hands of Paul and Barnabas* 
Acts xv. 22, 25., who were received by the ' whole church* ver. 4., and styled belov- 
ed* ver. 25. 

" Secondly, it appears unlikely that the apostle, writing this epistle about nine 
years after this council, should make no mention of a thing so advantageous to a 
cause he is pleading here, and so proper to confute the pretenses of the adversaries 
he dispuces against. And, 

"Thirdly, James, Peter, and John, being all the apostles now present at the 
council, the mention of their consent to his doctrine and practice was all that was 
necessary to his purpose to be mentioned concerning that council. It is no objection 
to this opinion, that we find no mention, in Acts xv. of Titus's being with him; for 
he is not mentioned in the whole of the Acts, during which interval the journey 
must have happened." (Whitby.) 

" The Council of Jerusalem was assembled in the fourteenth year after St. Paul's 
conversion. For the apostle adverts to this same journey, and determinately speci- 
fies the time in Gal. ii. 1, 2. Grotius is of opinion that four years should be here 
written instead of fourteen-; who, nevertheless, allows, that the one mentioned in 



PAUL. 503 

Galatians, is this journey to the Council. But the reason is evident why the apostle 
should date these years from the epoch of his conversion, from the scope of the 
first and second chapters. He styles himself an apostle, not of men, neither by man, 
chap. i. 1 : he declared that his gospel was not according to men, and that he neither 
received nor learned it from men, but by the revelation of Jesus Christ, Ver. 11, 12. 
And this he proves to the Galatians by his conversion, which was not unknown to 
them. He begins with his strict profession of the Jewish religion, according to the 
tenets of the Pharisees, which ended in a most violent persecution of the Christians. 
Then he goes on to show how God revealed his Son to him, and that immediately 
he conferred not with flesh and blood, he neither held communion with any man, 
neither did he go up to Jerusalem to them that were apostles before him, by whom 
he could have been taught more fully the mind of God, ' but went into Arabia,' 
where he received the gospel by revelation ; and he returned to Damascus, and 
preached the word of God to the confounding of the Jews : ' Then after three years 
he went up to Jerusalem to see Peter.' From all this it appears evident, that the 
epoch of these three years should commence at the time of his conversion. The 
same is to be said of the other epoch of the fourteen years. 'Then, after fourteen 
years, I went up again to Jerusalem,' chap. ii. 1, because the scope of both is the 
same, — and they both date from the same period of time. The word t-Kura does not 
connect this sentence with that of the three years, as if the beginning of these should 
be dated from the close of those, because there is another t-nura which comes between 
these two texts, viz. in ver. 21, of chap. i. where he begins to relate his travels in Sy- 
ria and Cilicia, but does not specify the period of time he remained in those regions ; 
therefore no chronological connexion can have been intended by him. The apostle 
still following up his design, says eneira and ira\iv, but neither does eirsira refer to his 
stay in Syria and Cilicia, — nor kclXiv to his second coming to Jerusalem : for he had 
been with a second collection to Jerusalem, then suffering from faming, accompanied 
hj Bar nabas, but not by Titus ; and because he then saw none of the apostles, 
he omitted mentioning that journey, considering it quite foreign to his present pur- 
pose." (Pearson. Ann. 49.) 

Paul's qjjarrel with peter. 
The whole company of envoys, both Barnabas and Paul, the 
original messengers of the Syrian church, and Jade and Silas, the 
deputies of the apostolic college, presented the complete results of 
the Jerusalem consultation before a full meeting of the whole 
congregation of believers at Antioch, and read the epistle of the 
council to them. The sage and happy exhortations which it con- 
tained were not only respectfully but joyfully received ; and in ad- 
dition to the comfort of these, the first vjritten loords of Christian 
inspiration, the two envoys, Jude and Silas, also discoursed to the 
church, commenting at more length on the apostolic message of 
which they were the bearers, and confirmed their hearers in the 
faith. After remaining there for some time, Jude bade them fare- 
well, and returned to his .apostolic associates ; but Silas was so 
much pleased with the opportunities thus afforded him of doing 
good among the Gentiles, of whom he himself also was one, as his 
name shows, — that he stayed in Antioch after the departure of 
Jude, and labored along with Paul and Barnabas, teaching and 
preaching the word of the Lord, with many others also. This is 
commonly understood to be the time of Paul's dissension with Pe- 
ter, as mentioned in the epistle to the Galatians. The circum- 



504 



PAUL. 



stances of this disagreeable occurrence have already been narrated 
and commented on, in the Life of Peter, — nor need anything ad- 
ditional be presented here in relation to Paul, except the observa- 
tion, that his dispute with the chief apostle, and his harsh cen- 
sure of his conduct, are very much in accordance with the impres- 
sions of his character, given in other passages of his life. He was 
evidently a man of violent and hasty passions ; and is uniformly 
represented, both by his historian and by himself, as exceedingly 
bitter and harsh in his denunciations of all who differed from 
him on practical or speculative points, both before and after his 
calling to the apostleship ; and this trait is manifested on such a 
variety of occasions, as to be very justly considered an inseparable 
peculiarity of his natural disposition and temperament. Doubtless 
there are many to whom it seems very strange, that the Apostle 
Paul should ever -be spoken of as having been actually and truly 
angry, or ever having made an error in his conduct after his con- 
version ; but there are instances enough to show that it was not a 
mere modest injustice to himself for him to tell the Lystran idola- 
ters that he was a man of like passions with them, — but a plain 
matter of fact, made evident not only by his own noble and frank 
confession, but by many unfortunate instances throughout his re- 
corded life. Yet there are a great many Protestants, who have 
been in the habit of making such a kind of idol or demi-god out 
of Paul, that they are as little prepared as the Lystrans to appre- 
ciate the human imperfections of his character ; and if Paul him- 
self could at this moment be made fully sensible of the dumb idol- 
atrous reverence with which many of his modern and enlightened 
adorers regard him, he would be very apt to burst out in the 
same earnest and grieved tone, in which he checked the similar 
folly of the Lystrans, — Cl Sirs ! why do ye these things ? I also 
am a man of like passions with yourselves." — " The spirit of di- 
vine truth which actuated me, and guided me in the way of light, 
by which I led others to life eternal, still did not make me any- 
thing more than a man. — a man in moral as in bodily weakness, 
nor exempt from liabilities to the accidents of passion, any more 
than to the pains of mortal disease. The Spirit that guided my 
pen in the record of eternal truth, and my tongue in the preach- 
ing of the word of salvation, did not exalt me above the errors, 
the failings and distresses of mortality ; and I was still all my life- 
time subject to the bondage of sin, groaning under that body of 
death, and longing for the day when I should pass away from 



PAUL. 505 

the frailties and distresses of earth, to that state of being which 
alone is wholly sinless and pure." 

" From the opposition to St. Peter, which they suppose to be before the Council at 
Jerusalem, some would have it, that this Epistle to the Galatians was written before 
that Council; as if what was done before the Council could not be mentioned in a 
letter written after the Council. They also contend, that this journey, mentioned 
here by St. Paul, was not that wherein he and Barnabas went up to that Council to 
Jerusalem, bat that mentioned Acts xi. 30.; but this with as little ground as the for- 
mer. The strongest reason they bring, is, that if this journey had been to the Coun- 
cil, and this letter after that Council, St. Paul would not certainly have omitted to 
have mentioned to the Galatians that decree. To which it is answered, 1. The men- 
tion of it was superfluous ; for they had it already, see Acts xvi. 4. 2. The mention 
of it was impertinent to the design of St. Paul's narrative here. For it is plain, that 
his aim, in what he relates here of himself, and his past actions, is to shew, that hav- 
ing received the gospel from Christ by immediate revelation, he had all along 
preached that, and nothing but that, everywhere; so that he could not be supposed to 
have preached circumcision, or by his carriage, to have shewn any subjection to the 
law; all the whole narrative following being to make good what he says, ehap. i. 11, 
c that the gospel which he preached was not accommodated to the humoring of men; 
nor did he seek to please the Jews (who were the men here meant) in what he taught.' 
Taking this to be his aim, we shall find the whole account he gives of himself, from 
that verse 11. of chap, i., to the end of the second chapter, to be very ctear and easy, 
and very proper to invalidate the report of his preaching circumcision." (Locke's 
Paraph.) 

"1 conceive that this happened at the time here stated, because Paul intimates in 
Gal. ii. 11., that he was in Antioch when Peter came there; and Peter had never 
been to Antioch before Paul was in that city after the Council of Jerusalem ; and 
besides the dissension between Paul and Barnabas, who was the intimate friend of 
Peter, appears to have originated here." Pearson's Annales Paul. (A. D. 50.) 

A fine exhibition of a quibbling, wire-drawn argument, may be found in Baro- 
nius, (Ann. 51,) who is here put to his wits' end to reconcile the blunt, "round, un- 
varnished tale," in Paul's own account, (in Galat. ii. 11 — 14,) with the papistical ab- 
surdity of the moral infallibility of the apostles. He lays out an argument of five 
heavy folio pages to prove that, though Paul quarreled thus with Peter, yet neither 
of them was in the slightest degree to blame, &c. But the folly of explaining away 
the Scriptures in this manner, is not confined wholly to the bigoted, hireling histo- 
rian of papal Rome; some of the boldest of protestants have, in the same manner r 
attempted to reconcile the statement of Paul with the vulgar notions of apostolic in- 
fallibility. Witsius (Vit. Pauli. iv. 12,) expends a paragraph to show that neither of 
them was to blame; but following the usual course of anti-papist writers, he repre- 
sents the great protestant idol, Paul, in altogether the most advantageous light, ac- 
cording to the perfectly proverbial peculiarity of the opponents of the church of 
Rome, who, in their apostolic distinctions, uniformly " rob Peter to pay Paul." 

Paul's quarrel with barnabas. 
The church of Antioch having thus made great advances under 
these very abundant and extraordinary instructions, the apostles be- 
gan to turn their eyes again to a foreign field, and longed for a renew- 
al of those adventurous labors from which they had now had so long 
a repose. Paul therefore proposed to Barnabas that they should go 
over their old ground again : — " Let us go again and visit our breth- 
ren in every city, where we have preached the word of the Lord, 
and see how they do." To this frank and reasonable proposition, 
Barnabas readily agreed, and as it was desirable that they should 
have an assistant with them on this journey, he proposed that his 
nephew Mark should accompany them in this capacity as he had 



506 PAUL. 

done on their former voyage. Bnt Pan], remembering the manner 
in which he had forsaken them jnst as they were entering upon 
the arduous missionary fields of Asia Minor, refused to try again, 
one who had once failed to do them the desired service, at a time 
when he was most needed. Yet Barnabas, being led, no doubt 
by his near relationship to the delinquent evangelist, to overlook 
this single deficiency, and perhaps, having good reason to think 
that he had now made up his mind to stick to them through thick 
and thin, through good and bad fortune, was disposed to give him 
another trial in the apostolic service, and therefore strongly urged 
Paul to accept of him as their common assistant in this new tour 
for which he was well fitted by his knowledge of the routes. 
Paul, however, no doubt irritated against Mark, for the wavering 
spirit already manifested by him at Perga, utterly refused to have 
anything to do with him after such a display of character, and 
wished to take some other person who had been tried in the good 
work with more satisfactory results as to his resolution and ability. 
Barnabas of course, was not at all pleased to have his sister's son 
treated so slightingly, and refused to have any substitute what- 
ever, insisting that Mark should go, while Paul was equally re- 
solved that he should not. The conclusion of the whole matter 
was, that these two great apostles, the authorized messengers of 
God to the Gentiles, quarreled downright ; and after a great deal 
of furious contention, they parted entirely from one another ; and 
so bitter seems to have been the division between them that they 
are not known to have ever after been associated in apostolic la- 
bors, although they had been the most intimate friends and fel- 
low-travelers for many years, standing by one another through 
evil and good report, through trials, perils, distresses and almost 
to death. A most lamentable exhibition of human weaknes mar- 
ring the harmonious progress of the great scheme of evangeliza- 
tion ! Yet it must be esteemed one of the most valuable facts re- 
lating to the apostles, that are recorded in the honest, simple, clear, 
and truly impartial narrative of Luke ; because it reminds the 
Christian reader of a circumstance, that he might otherwise for- 
get, in an undue reverence for the character of the apostles, — and 
that is, the circumstance that these consecrated ministers of the 
word of truth were, really and practically, in spite of their holi- 
ness, "men of like passions with ourselves," and even in the ar- 
rangement of their apostolic duties, were liable to be governed by 
the impulses of human passion, which on a few occasions like this, 



PAUL. 507 

acting in opposite directions in different persons at the same time, 
brought them into open collisions and disputes, — which, if men of 
their pure martyr-spirit, mostly too, under the guidance of a divine 
influence, could not avoid, nor could satisfactorily settle, neither 
may the unconsecrated historian of a later age presume to decide. 
Who was right and who was wrong in this difficulty, it is impos- 
sible to say ; and each reader may judge for himself. It may be 
remarked, however, that Paul was no more likely to be right than 
Barnabas ; he was a younger man, as it would appear from the 
circumstance that he is named after him in the apostolic epistle ; — 
he was no more an apostle than Barnabas was ; for both are thus 
named by Luke in his account of their first journey, and both 
were expressly called by a distinct revelation from the Holy Spirit 
to undertake the apostleship of the Gentiles together. Paul also 
is known to have quarreled with other persons, and especially with 
Peter himself, and that too without very just cause ; and although 
Barnabas may have been influenced to partiality by his relation- 
ship to Mark, yet much also may be justly chargeable to Paul's 
natural violence and bitterness of temper, which often led him into 
hasty acts, of which he afterwards repented, as he certainly did in 
this very case, after some time ; for he repeatedly mentions Mark in 
his epistles in terms of regard, and what is most in point, declares 
him to be " profitable to him in the ministry." 

Witsius remarks, (Vit. Paul. iv. 16,) that the ancient Christian writers ascribe the 
greatest part of the blame of this quarrel to Barnabas, whom they consider as hav- 
ing been unduly influenced by natural affection for his kindred according to the 
flesh. "But," as Witsius rather too cautiously remarks, " it may well be doubted 
whether Paul's natural violence of temper did not carry him. somewhat beyond the 
bounds of right. The Greeks have not unwisely remarked — 'O U.av'Sos 's£j r£t to Sl- 
icatov, 'o Bapva(3as to $i\av$pu>v:ov, 'Paul demanded what was just — Barnabas, what was 
charitable.' It might have been well enough if Barnabas had yielded to the zeal of 
Paul ; but it would not have been bad if Paul had persuaded himself to allow some- 
thing to the feelings of that most mild and amiable man. Meanwhile, it deserves 
notice, that God so ordered this, that it turned out as much for the individual benefit 
of Mark, as for the general benefit of the church. For the kind partiality of Bar- 
nabas was of advantage to Mark, in preventing him from being utterly cast off from 
apostolic companionship, and forsaken as unworthy; while to the church, this sepa- 
ration was useful, since it was the means of confirming the faith of more of the 
churches in the same time." (Witsius.) 

" From hence we may learn, not only that these great lights in the Christian 
church were men of the like passions with us, but that God, upon this occasion, did 
most eminently illustrate the wisdom of his providence, by rendering the frailties of 
two such eminent servants instrumental to the benefit of his church, since both of 
them thenceforward employed their extraordinary industry and zeal singly and 
apart, which till then had been united, and confined to the same place." (Stanhope 
on the Epistles and Gospels, vol. 4.) 

HIS SECOND APOSTOLIC MISSION. 

After this unhappy dispute, the two great apostles of the Gen- 



508 PAUL. 

tiles separated ; and while Barnabas, accompanied by his favorite 
nephew, pursued the former route to Cyprus, his native island, 
Paul took a different direction, by land, north and west. In se- 
lecting a companion for a journey which he had considered as ur- 
gently requiring such blameless rectitude and firmness of resolu- 
tion, he had set his heart upon Silas, the efficient Hellenist depu- 
ty from Jerusalem, whose character had been fully tested and de- 
veloped during his stay in Antioch, where he had been so active 
in the exercise of those talents, as a preacher, which had gained 
for him the title of " prophet" before his departure from Jerusa- 
lem. Paul, during his apostolic association with him, had laid 
the foundation of a very intimate friendship ; and being thus at- 
tached to him by motives of affection and respect, he now selected 
him as the companion of his missionary toils. Bidding the church 
of Antioch farewell, and being commended by them to the favor of 
God, he departed, — not by water, but through the cities of Syria, 
by land, — whence turning westward, he passed through the Syri- 
an gates into Ciiicia ; in all these places strengthening the church- 
es already planted, by making large additions to them from the 
Gentiles around them. Journeying northwest from Ciiicia, he 
came by the Cilician gates of Taurus, to his old scenes of labor 
and suffering, in Lycaonia, at Derbe and Lystra, where he pro- 
ceeded in the task of renewing and completing the good work 
which he had himself begun on his former tour with Barnabas ; 
with whom he might now doubtless have effected vastly more 
good, and whose absence must have been deeply regretted by those 
who owed their hopes of salvation to the united prayers and la- 
bors of him and Paul. Among those who had been converted 
here by the apostles on their first mission, was a half-bred Jew, 
by name Timotheus, his father having been a Greek who married 
Lois, a Jewess, and had maintained a high character among his 
countrymen in that region, both in Lystra and Iconium. Under 
the early and careful instructions of his pious mother, who had 
herself received a superior religious education under her own 
mother Eunice, Timothy had acquired a most uncommon famil- 
iarity with the Scriptures, which were able to make him wise un- 
to salvation ; and that he had learned them and appreciated their 
meaning in a much more spiritual and exalted sense than most 
Jews, appears from the fact, that notwithstanding his early regard 
for the law as well as the prophets, he had never complied with 
the Mosaic rite of circumcision, — perhaps because his father may 



PAUL. 509 

have been prejudiced against the infliction of such a sign upon his 
child. Paul becoming acquainted with Timothy, and seeing in 
the young man the germ of those talents which were afterwards 
so eminent in the gospel cause, determined to train him to be an 
assistant and associate with him in the apostolic ministry, — and in 
order to make him so far conform to all the rites of the ancient 
covenant, as would fit him for an acceptable ministry among the 
Jews as well as the Gentiles, he had him circumcised ; and he 
was induced still farther to this step of conformity, by the consid- 
eration of the effect it would have on the Jews in that immediate 
neighborhood, who were already very suspicious that Paul was in 
reality aiming at the utter overthrow and extinction of all the Mo- 
saic usages, and was secretly doing all that he could to bring them 
into contempt and disuse. Having made this sacrifice to the 
prejudices of his countrymen, he now considered Timothy as 
completely fitted for usefulness in the apostolic ministry, and 
henceforth made him his constant companion for years. 

HIS WESTWARD JOURNEY. 

With this accession to his company, Paul proceeded through 
the cities of that region which he had before visited, and commu- 
nicated to them the decrees passed by the apostles and elders 
at Jerusalem, for the regulation of the deportment of professing 
Christians, in regard to the observance of Mosaic usages. They 
all, moreover, labored for the extension of the churches already 
founded, and thus caused them to be built up, so that they receiv- 
ed fresh additions daily. Nor did Paul limit his apostolic labors 
to the mere confirmation of the work begun on his tour with Bar- 
nabas ; but after traversing all his old fields of exertion, he extend- 
ed his journey far north of his former route, through all Phrygia, 
and Galatia, a province which had never before been blessed with 
the presence of a Christian missionary,— and after laboring in his 
high vocation there, he was disposed to move west, to the Ionian 
or true Asian shore of the Aegean, but was checked by a direc- 
tion which he could not resist; and passing northward of the true 
Asian cities, he came out of Phrygia into Mysia, the province that 
occupies the northwestern corner of all Asia Minor, bounded 
north by the Propontis and Hellespont, and west by the northern 
part of the Aegean, — the true Asia lying south of it, within the ge- 
ographical division commonly named Lydia. Having entered 
Mysia, they were expecting to turn northeast into Bithynia, when 
again their own preferences and counsels were overruled by the 

65 



510 PAUL. 

same mysterious impulse as before, and they therefore continued 
their westward journey to the shore of the Hellespont and Aegean, 
arriving within the classic region of the Troad, at the modern 
city of Alexandria Troas, some miles south of that most glorious 
of all the scenes of Grecian poetical antiquity, where, thirteen hun- 
dred years before, " Troy was." Here they rested for a brief space, 
and while they were undecided as to the course which they ought 
next to pursue, Paul had a remarkable vision, which gave a sum- 
mons too distinct to be mistaken or doubted, to a field in which 
the most noble triumphs of the cross were destined to be won 
under his own personal ministration, and where through thou- 
sands of years the name of Christ should consecrate and re-exalt 
the land, over all whose hills, mountains, streams, valleys, and 
seas, then as now, clustered the rich associations of the most splen- 
did antiquity that is marked in the records of the past, with the 
beautiful and the excellent in poetry, art, taste, literature, philoso- 
phy and moral exaltation. In the night, as Paul was slumbering 
at his stopping-place, in the Troad, there appeared to him a vision 
of a Macedonian, who seemed to cry out beseechingly to him — 
" Come over into Macedonia, and help us I" This voice of earnest 
prayer for the help of Christ, rolling over the wide Aegean, was 
enough to move the ardent spirit of Paul, and on waking he 
therefore summoned his companions to attend him in his voyage 
to this new field. He had been joined here by a new companion, 
as appears from the fact, that the historian of the Acts of the 
apostles now begins to speak in the first person, of the apostolic 
company, and it thence appears that besides Silas and Timotheus, 
Paul was now attended by Luke. Setting sail from Troas, as 
soon as they could get ready for this unexpected extension of their 
travels, the whole four were wafted by a fresh south-eastern breeze 
from the Asian coast, first to the large island of Samothraee ; and 
on the second day, they came to Neapolis, a town on the coast of 
Macedonia, which is the seaport of the great city of Philippi. 

HIS MISSION IN MACEDONIA. 

They without delay proceeded to Philippi, the chief city of that 
part of Macedonia, taking its name from that sage monarch who 
laid the foundation of the Macedonian dominion over the Grecian 
world, and gave this city its importance and splendor, re-building 
it, and granting it the honors of his peculiar favor. Under the Ro- 
man conquest it had lost no part of its ancient importance, but 
had been endowed by Julius Caesar, in a special decree, with the 



PAUL* 511 

high privileges of a Roman colony, and was in the apostolic age 
one of the greatest cities in that part of Europe. Here Paul and 
his companions staid for several days ; and seeking on the sab- 
bath, for some place where they could, in that heathen land, ob- 
serve the worship, and celebrate the praises of the God of their fa- 
thers, they wandered forth from the great pagan city, and sat 
down, away from the unholy din of mirth and business, in a re- 
tired place on the banks of the little stream which ran by the 
town, being made up of numerous springs that rise at the foot of 
the hills north of it, — which gave it the name of Crenides, or 
"the city of springs;" — the common name of the town before 
its conquest by Philip. In such places, by the side of streams and 
other waters, the Jews were always accustomed to construct their 
places for social worship ; and here, in this quiet place, a few 
Jewish residents of the city resorted for prayer, remembering the 
God of their fathers, though so far from his sanctuary. Those 
who thus kept up the worship of God in this place, are mention- 
ed as being women only ; for it may always be observed that it 
is among the softer sex that religion takes its deepest root, and 
among them a regard to its observances is always found, long af- 
ter the indifference generated by a change of circumstances, or by 
the engrossing cares of business, has turned away the devotions 
of men. So was it in Philippi ; while the sons of Judah had 
grown indifferent to those observances of their religion, which 
were inconvenient, by interfering with the daily arrangements of 
business intercourse with their heathen fellow-citizens, the daugh- 
ters of Zion came still regularly together, to the place where prayer 
was wont to be made. Here the apostolic company met them, 
and preached to them the new word of grace, now revealed for 
all the scattered race of Israel, far and near, — and not for them 
only, but also for the Gentiles. Among these gentle auditors of 
the word of grace, now first proclaimed in Greece, was a 
Jewess, named Lydia, who had emigrated from Thyatira,in Lydian 
Asia, and now carried on in Philippi, a trade in the purple dye, 
for which the region from which she came was so famous, even 
from the time of Homer. While listening to the words of Paul, 
her heart was opened to the comprehension of the truth of the 
gospel, and she professed her faith in Jesus. Having been bap- 
tized with all her household, she was so moved with regard for 
those who had thus taught her the way of salvation, that she ear- 
nestly invited them to make her house their home. Complying 



512 PAUL. 

with her benevolent and hospitable invitation, Paul, Silas, Timo- 
thy and Luke, took up their abode in her house, and remained 
there throughout their whole stay in Philippi. 

Such was the beginning of the propagation of the gospel in 
Greece, — such was the foundation of the first church ever plant- 
ed east of the Hellespont : and thus did Europe first receive the 
doctrines of that faith, which now holds in all that mighty di- 
vision of the world, a triumphant seat, and constitutes the univer- 
sal religion of the nations that hold within themselves the sources 
of art, learning, — all the refinements of civilization, — and of the 
dominion of half the globe. Four pilgrims entered the city of 
Philippi, unknown, friendless, and scorned for their foreign, half- 
barbarian aspect. Strolling about from day to day, to find the 
means of executing their strange errand, they at last found a few 
Jewish women, sitting in a little retired place, on the banks of a 
nameless stream. To them they made known the message of 
salvation ; — one of the women with her household believed the 
gospel, and professed the faith of Jesus ; — and from this beginning 
did those glorious results advance, which in their progress have 
changed the face of Europe, revolutionized the course of empires, 
and modified the destiny of the world ! 

An incident soon occurred, however, which brought them into 
more public notice, though not in a very desirable manner. As 
they went out to the usual place of prayer on the bank of the 
stream, they at last were noticed by a poor bedeviled crazy girl, 
who, being deprived of reason, had been made a source of profit 
to a set of mercenary villains, who taking advantage of the common 
superstition of their countrymen about the supernatural endow- 
ments of such unfortunate persons, pretended that she was a Py- 
thoness, indued by the Pythian Apollo with the spirit of prophecy ; 
for not only at Delphi, on his famous tripod, but also throughout 
Greece, he was believed to inspire certain females to utter his ora- 
cles, concerning future events. The owners and managers of 
this poor girl therefore made a trade of her supposed soothsay- 
ing faculty, and found it a very profitable business, through the 
folly of the wise Greeks of Philippi. This poor girl had her 
crazy fancy struck by the appearance of the apostolic company, 
as they passed along the streets to their place of prayer, and fol- 
lowing them, perceived, under the impulse of the strange influence 
that possessed her, the real character of Paul and his compan- 
ions ; and cried out after them, " These men are the servants of 



PAUL. 



513 



the most high God, who show us the way of salvation." This 
she did daily for a long time, till at last, Paul, annoyed by this 
kind of proclamation thus made at his heels, turned about, and 
by a single command subdued the demoniac influence that pos- 
sessed her, and restored her to the freedom of sense and thought. 
Of course she was now no longer the submissive instrument of 
the will of her mercenary managers, and it was with no small 
vexation that they found all chance of these easy gains was for- 
ever gone. In their rage against the authors of what they deemed 
their calamity, they caught Paul and Silas, as the foremost of the 
apostolic company, and dragging them into the forum or court- 
house, where the magistrates were in session, they presented their 
prisoners as a downright nuisance : " These men, who are Jews, 
do exceedingly trouble our city ; and teach customs which are 
not lawful for us to adopt nor observe, if we are to maintain the 
privileges of Roman citizens." What the latter part of the ac- 
cusation referred to, in particular, it is not easy to say, and prob- 
ably there was no very definite specification made by the accu- 
sers ; for the general prejudice against the Jews was such, that the 
mob raised a clamor against them at once ; and the magistrates 
seeing in the apostles only some nameless foreign vagabonds, who 
having come into the city without any reasonable object in view 
were disturbing the peace of the inhabitants, had no hesitation 
whatever in ordering them to be punished in the most ignomi- 
nious manner, and without any question or defense, conforming 
to the dictation of that universally divine and immaculate source 
of justice, — the voice of the people, — instantly had them stripped 
and flogged at the discretion of their persecutors. After having 
thus shamefully abused them, they did not dismiss them, but cast 
them into prison, and set their feet in the stocks. 

" Philippi was a city of Macedonia, of moderate extent, and not far from the bor- 
ders of Thrace. It was formerly called Crenides, from its numerons springs, from 
which arises a small stream, mentioned Acts xvi. 13., though it is commonly omitted 
in the maps. The name of Philippi it received from Philip, father of Alexander, 
who enlarged it, and fortified it as a barrier town against the Thracians. Julius 
Caesar sent hither a Roman colony, as appears from the following inscription on a 
medal of this city, COL. ITJL. AUG. PHIL, quoted in Vaillant Num. sen. imp. T. 
I. p. 160, and from Spon Misc. p. 173. See also Pliny, L. IV. c. ii. and the authors 
in Wolfii Curae, irpwTri rrig [isptSog ty}$ MaKtSovtas TroXt?, 'the first city of that district of 
Macedonia:' but in what sense the word Ttpwrrj, or 'first,' is here to be taken, admits 
of some doubt. Paulus iEmilius had divided Macedonia into four districts, and 
that in which Philippi was situated, was called 7rpwrJ7, or the first district. But of this 
district, Philippi does not appear to be entitled, in any sense, to the name of irpwrrj no^ig. 
For if Trpcorrj be taken in the sense of 'first in respect to place,' this title belonged rath- 
er to Neapolis, which was the frontier town of Macedonia, towards Thrace, as ap- 
pears from Acts xvii. 1. And, if taken in the sense of 'first in respect to rank,' 
it belonged rather to Amphipolis, which was the capital of this district of Macedonia, 



514 



PAUL. 



as appears from the following passage Livii Hist. Lib. XLV. 29. Capita regionaffl, 

ubi concilia fierent, primae regionis Amphipolin, secandae Thessalonicen, &c. But 
the difficulty is not so great as it appears to be. For, though Amphipolis was made 
the capital of the first district of Macodonia in the time of Paulus iErnilius, and 
therefore entitled to the name of -pa^, it is not impossible that in a subsequent age, 
the preference was given to Philippi. Or even if Amphipolis still continued to be 
the capital of the district, or the seat of the Roman provincial government, yet the 
title Ti()(D->] may have been claimed by the city of Philippi, though it were not the very 
first in point of rank. We meet with many instances of this kind, on the medals of 
the Greek cities, on which we find that more than one city of the same province, as- 
sumed the title of -p^rrj. St. Luke, therefore, who spent a long time at Philippi, and 
was well acquainted with the customs of the place, gave this city the title which it 
claimed, and which, according to the custom of the Greek cities, was inscribed prob- 
ably on its coins. Hence it appears that the proposal made by Pierce to alter irpwrrj t/js 
fxtpiSos to 7TpuT?i<: [iepioos, is unnecessary." (Michaelis's Int. Vol. IV. pp. 152-154. 
Marsh's trans, j 

"' Where prayer was wont to be made.' xvi. 13. This proseuchae signifies an ora- 
tory, a place appointed for prayer; in heathen countries, they were erected in seques- 
tered retreats, commonly on the banks of rivers (a<= here) or on the sea-shore. Jo- 
sephus has preserved the decree of the city of Halicarnassus. permitting the Jews to 
erect oratories, part of which is in the following terms : — ' We ordain that the Jews, 
who are willing, both men and women, do observe the Sabbaths and perform sacred 
rites according to the Jewish law, and build proseuchae by the sea-side, according to the 
custom of their country ; and if any man, whether magistrate or private person, give 
them any hinderance or disturbance, he shall pay a fine to the city.' (Jos. Ant. lib. 
xiv, cap." 10.) (Al. 24.) 

" Many commentators, viz. Grotius, Drs. Whitby, Doddridge, and Lardner, agree 
with Josephus, Philo, and Juvenal, that these places of worship were synonymous 
with synagogues. But Calmet, Prideaux, and Hammond, contend that they were 
nearly the 'same, yet there was a real difference between them; the synagogues were 
within the cities, while the proseuchae were without, in retired spots, particularly in 
heathen countries, bv the river-side, with galleries or the shades of trees for their 
only shelter. Prideaux considers them to be of greater antiquity than the syna- 
gogues, and that they were formed bv the Jews in open courts, that those who lived 
at a distance from Jerusalem might offer their private worship as in the open courts 
of the Temple or Tabernacle. In the synagogues, Prideaux observes, public wor- 
ship was performed, and in the proseuchae private prayer was used to be made. It is 
highly probable that these proseuchae were the same which are called in the Old Tes- 
tament " high places. 15 (Hammond onLuke vi. 12, and Acts xvi. 13—16. Galmet's 
Diet, voce proseucha. Prideaux's Connec, part i. book iv. sub anno 444. vol. I. pp. 
387— 390. edit. 1720.) (Home's Introd.) . 

" 'And a certain woman named Lydia, a seller of purple, of the city of Thyatira. 
v 14 It is a remarkable fact, that among the ruins of Thyatira, there is an inscrip- 
tion extant with the words 01 BAtfElS, the dyers. Wheler's Journey into Greece, 
vol iii p 233. Spon. Miscellanea Eruditae Antiquitates, p. 113 ; from whence we 
learn that the art and trade of dyeing purple were carried on in that city." (Home's 
Introd.) 

Here was line business for the apostle and his companion ! 
" Come over into Macedonia and help us /" Such were the 
words of deep agonizing entreaty, in which the beseeching Mace- 
donian had, in the night-vision, summoned the great apostle of 
the Gentiles to this new field of evangelizing labor. Taking that 
summons for a divine command, he had obeyed it — had crossed 
the wide Aegean, and sought in this great city of Macedonia, the 
occasions and the means of " helping" the idolatrous citizens to a 
knowledge of the truth as it was in Jesus. Week after week they 
had been inoffensively toiling in the faithful effort to answer this 
Macedonian cry for help ; and what was the result and the re- 



PAUL. 



515 



ward of all these exertions ? For no crime whatever, and for no 
reason except that they had rescued a gentle and unfortunate spirit 
from a most degrading thraldom to demoniac agencies, and to 
men more vile and wicked than demons, they had been mobbed, 
— abused by a parcel of mercenary scoundrels, — stripped naked 
in the forum, and whipped there like thieves, — and at last thrown 
into the common jail among felons, with every additional injury 
that could be inflicted by their determined persecutors, being fet- 
tered so that they could not repose their sore and exhausted bodies. 
Was not here enough to try the patience of even an apostle? 
What man would not have burst out in furious vexation against 
the beguiling vision which had led them away into a foreign land, 
among those who were disposed to repay their assiduous " help," 
by such treatment? Thus might Paul and Silas have expressed 
their vexation, if they had indeed been misled by a mere human 
enthusiasm ; but they knew Him in whom they had trusted, and 
were well assured that He would not deceive them. So far from 
giving way to despondency and silence, they uplifted their voices 
in praise ! Yes, praise to the God and Father of Jesus Christ, 
that he had accounted them worthy to suffer thus for the glory 
of his name. " At midnight Paul and Silas prayed and sang 
praises to God, and the prisoners heard them." In the dreary 
darkness, — inclosed between massive walls, and bound in weighty 
fetters, their spirits rose in prayer, — doubtless for those persecu- 
tors whom they came over to u help," and not for themselves, — ■ 
since their souls were already so surely stayed on God. To him 
they raised their voices in praise, for their own peace and joy in 
believing. Not yielding like those inspired by the mere impulses 
of human ambition or wild enthusiasm, — they passed the dreary 
night, not 

" In silence or in fear. — 

They shook the depths of the prison gloom, 

With their hymns of lofty cheer. — 

Amid the storm they sang." 

for He whom they thus invoked did not leave them in their he- 
roic endurance, without a most convincing testimony that their 
prayers and their songs had come up in remembrance before him. 
In the midst of their joyous celebration of this persecution, while 
their wondering fellow-prisoners, waked from their sleep by this 
very unparalleled noise, were listening in amazement to this man- 
ifestation of the manner of spirit with which their new compan- 
ions were disposed to meet their distresses,— a mighty earthquake 



516 



PAUL. 



shook the city, and heaved the whole prison-walls on their found- 
ations, so that all the firmly barred doors were burst open, and, 
what was more remarkable, all the chains fell from the prisoners. 
The jailer waking up amidst this horrible crash, and seeing all 
the prison-doors open, supposed that the prisoners had all es- 
caped ; and knowing how utterly certain would be his ruin if his 
charge should thus be broken, — in a fit of vexation and despair, he 
drew his sword, and would have instantly killed himself, had not 
Paul, seeing through the darkness the frenzied actions of the 
wretched man, called out to him in a loud voice, clear and distinct 
amid the dreadful din, " Do thyself no harm, for we are all 
here." 

Hearing these consolatory words, the jailer called for a light, 
and sprang in, and came trembling, and fell down before Paul 
and Silas, saying, — " Sirs ! AVhat must I do to be saved V J They 
replied — "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be 
saved, with all thy house." The jailer of course spoke of being 
saved merely from present danger, — and appalled by the shock of 
the earthquake, concluded at once that it had some connection 
with the prayers and songs of the two Jewish prisoners, whom he 
knew to have been unjustly punished and imprisoned. He sup- 
posed therefore, that from those who were the occasion of the aw- 
ful occurrence, he might best learn the means of escaping its de- 
structive consequences. But his alarmed inquiries were made in- 
strumental in teaching him the way of escape from a peril of far 
greater magnitude, threatening his spirit with the eternal ruin 
that would fall at last on all the sinful opposers of the truth. The 
two imprisoned preachers then proclaimed to him the word of the 
Lord, and not only to him, but to all that were in his house. No 
sooner had the jailer thus learned, by their eloquent words, the 
real character and objects of his prisoners, than he immediately 
determined to make them all the atonement in his power, for the 
shameful treatment which they had received from his fellow-cit- 
izens. He took them that same hour of the night, and washed 
their stripes, and was baptized with all his house. Of course he 
could no longer suffer those who were the authors of his hopes of 
salvation, to lie any longer among felons ; and he immediately 
brought them out of the jail into his own house, and gave them 
food, making it a sort of festal accasion for himself and his whole 
family, who were all rejoicing with him in the knowledge of the 
gospel. When it was day the magistrates sent the officers of jus- 



PAUL. 



517 



tice with a verbal order for the release of the two prisoners, of 
whose abominable usage they were now quite ashamed, after a 
night's reflection, without the clamors of a mob to incite them ; 
and perhaps also their repentance may have been promoted by 
the great earthquake during the night, for which the Greeks and 
Romans would, as usual, seek some moral occasion, looking on it 
of course, as a prodigy, expressive of the anger of the gods, who 
might be supposed perhaps, to be indignant at the flagrant injus- 
tice committed against these two friendless strangers. But how- 
ever satisfactory this atonement might seem to the magistrates, 
Paul was by no means disposed to let them off so quietly, after 
using him and Silas in this outrageous manner, in absolute defi- 
ance of all forms of law and justice. To this permission thus 
given him to sneak off quietly, he therefore returned the indig- 
nant answer — " They have openly beaten us uncondemned, though 
we are Roman citizens, and they have cast us into prison ; and 
now do they thrust us out so slily ? No, indeed ; but let them 
come themselves and fetch us out." This was alarming news 
indeed, to the magistrates. Here they were found guilty of hav- 
ing violated " the sacred privilege of Roman citizenship !" — a 
privilege which always shielded its possessor from irregular ty- 
ranny, and required, throughout the Roman world, that he should 
never be subjected to punishment without the most open and for- 
mal investigation of the charge ; a privilege too, whose violation 
would bring down on them the most remorseless vengeance of the 
imperial fountain of Roman power. So nothing would do, but 
they must submit to the uncomfortable necessity of bringing down 
their magisterial dignity, to the low business of visiting their poor, 
abused prisoners in the jail, and humbly apologizing for their own 
cruelty. 

The magistrates of the great city of Philippi therefore came to 
the prison, and brought out their abused victims, respectfully re- 
questing them to depart out of the city. The two prisoners 
accordingly consented to retire quietly from the city, without 
making any more trouble for their persecutors. Going first to 
the house of their kind hostess, Lydia, they saw the brethren who 
had believed the gospel there, during their apostolic ministrations, 
and having exhorted them, bade them farewell, and in company 
with their two companions, Timothy and Luke, left the city. 

Turning south west wards towards Greece proper, and keeping 
near the coast, they came next to Amphipolis, a Macedonian city 

66 



518 



PAUL. 



on the river Strymon, near where it flows into the Strymonie 
gulf: but making no stay that is mentioned, they continued their 
journey in the same direction to Apollonia, an inland town on the 
river Chabrius, in the peninsula of Chalcidice ; whence turning 
northwest they came next to Thessalonica, a large city at the 
head of the great Thermaic gulf. In this place was a syna- 
gogue of the Jews, — the first that they had found in their Euro- 
pean travels ; for in this thriving commercial place the Jews were, 
and always have been, in such large numbers, that they were 
abundantly able to keep their own house of worship and religious 
instruction, and had independence enough, as well as regard for 
the institutions of their fathers, to attend in large numbers weekly 
at this sanctuary. So zealous and successful indeed had they 
been in their devotion to their religion, that they had drawn into 
a profession of the faith of the God of Israel, a vast number of 
Greeks who attended worship with them : for such was the su- 
perior purity of the religion of the Jews, which regarded the one 
only living God T who was to be worshiped not in the debasing 
forms of statues, but in spirit and truth, that almost every place 
throughout the regions of Grecian civilization, in which the Jews 
had planted their little commercial settlements, and reared the 
houses of religious instruction, showed abundance of such in- 
stances as this, in which the bright intellectual spirit of the 
Greek readily appreciated the exalted character and the holy 
truth of the faith owned by the sons of Israel, and felt at once how 
far more suited to the conceptions of Hellenic genius was such a 
religion, than the degrading polytheism which the philosophy and 
poetry of a thousand years had striven in vain to redeem from its 
inherent absurdities. Among these intelligent but mixed congre- 
gations, Paul and his companions entered, and taking advantage 
of the freedom of religious discourse allowed to all by the order 
of a Jewish synagogue, they on three successive sabbaths reason- 
ed with them out of the scriptures, on that great and all-absorbing 
point in the original apostolic theology, — that the Christ, the 
Messiah, so generally understood to be distinctly foretold in the 
Hebrew scriptures, was always described as destined to undergo 
great sufferings during his earthly career, and after a death of 
shame, was to rise from the grave ; — and at last concluded with 
the crowning doctrine — " This Jesus, whom I preach to you, is 
this Christ." 

This glorious annunciation of a new and spiritual dispensa- 



PAUL. 519 

tion, was at once well received by a vast majority of the hear- 
ers — but more especially by the Greeks, whose conceptions of 
the religion which they had espoused, were far more rational and 
exalted than even the notions of the original Israelites, whose 
common ideas of a Redeemer being connected and mixed up, 
as their whole faith was, so much with what was merely national 
and patriotic in their feelings, had led them to disregard the ne- 
cessarily spiritual nature of the new revelation expected, and had 
caused them almost universally to image the Messiah as a mere 
Jewish conqueror, who was to aim mainly at the restoration of 
the ancient dominion of long-humbled Judah. Therefore, 
while the Greeks readily and joyfully accepted this glorious 
completion of the faith whose beginnings they had learned 
under the old covenant, — the Jews for the most part scornfully re- 
jected the revelation which presented to them as their Messiah, 
" a man of sorrows," — a Galilean, — a Nazarene, — one without 
pomp or power ; the grand achievment of whose earthly career 
was that most ignominious death on the cross. No: this was 
not the Messiah for whom they looked and longed, as the glorious 
restorer of Israel, and the bloody conqueror of the Gentiles ■ and 
it was therefore with the greatest indignation that they saw the 
great majority of those converts from heathenism, whom they had 
made with so much pains, now wholly carried away with the 
humbling doctrines of these new teachers. Thus " moved with 
envy," the unbelieving Jews resorted to their usual expedient of 
stirring up a mob ; and accordingly, certain low fellows of the 
baser sort among them, gathered a gang, and set the whole city on 
an uproar, — an effect which might seem surprising, from a cause 
apparently so trifling and inadequate, did not every month's ob- 
servation on similar occurrences, among people that call them- 
selves the most enlightened and free on the globe, suffice to show 
every reader, that to : ' set a whole city in an uproar," is the easi- 
est thing in the world, and one more often done by " certain lewd 
fellows of the baser sort," about the merest trifle, than in any 
other way. And here then again, is another of those fac-simile 
exhibitions of true human nature, with which the honest and self- 
evident story of Luke abounds ; and in this particular instance 
what makes him so beautifully graphical and natural in his de- 
scription of this manifestation of public opinion, is the fact that 
he himself was a spectator of the whole proceedings at Thessalo- 
nica, — and therefore gives an eye-witness story. The mob being 



520 



PAUL. 



thus gathered, immediately made a desperate assault on the house 
of Jason, where Paul and Silas were known to lodge, and sought 
to drag them out to the people. (One would think that this was 
a mere prophetic account of perfectly similar occurrences, that 
pass every month under the noses of modern Europeans.) Paul 
and Silas, however, had been wise enough to make off at the first 
alarm, and had found some place of concealment, beyond the 
reach of the mob. Provoked at not obtaining the prime object 
of the attack, the rascals then seized Jason and other Christians 
whom they found there, and dragged them before the magistrates, 
crying — " These that have turned the world upside down, have 
come hither also, — whom Jason has entertained ; and they all do 
contrary to the statutes of Caesar, saying that there is another 
king, — one Jesus." This communication of the mode in which 
the great mundane inversion had been effected by these four trav- 
elers and their new converts, excited no small commotion among 
all the inhabitants ; for it amounted to a distinct charge of a trea- 
sonable conspiracy against the Roman government, and could not 
fail to bring down the most disagreeable consequences on the 
city, if it was made known, even though it should amount to no- 
thing. However, the whole proceedings against Jason and his 
friends were conducted with a moderation truly commendable, 
and far above any mob-action in these enlightened times : for 
without any personal injury, they simply satisfied themselves with 
taking security of Jason and his companions, that they should 
keep the peace, and attempt nothing treasonable, and then quietly 
let them go. Who would expect any modern European mob to 
release their victims in this moderate and reasonable way 1 

" Amphipolis is a city of Macedonia, on the confines of Thrace, called so, as Thu- 
cydides informs us, (lib. iv. p. 321.) because the rivers encompassed it. Suidas and 
others place it in Thracia, giving it the name of the Nine Ways. It had the name 
likewise of Chrysopolis. (Wells, Whitby.) 

" Apollonia, a city of Macedonia, lying between Amphipolis and Thessalonica. 
Geographers affirm that there were fourteen cities, and two islands of that name. 
Stephanus reckons twenty-five. (Whitby.) 

Thessalonica, a large and populous city and sea-port of Macedonia, the capital of 
the four districts into which the Romans divided that country, after its conquest by 
Paulus iEmilius. It was situated on the Thermian Bay, and was anciently called 
Thermae; but, being rebuilt by Philip, the father of Alexander, after his victory 
over the Thessalians, it then received the name of Thessalonica. 

" At the time of writing the Epistle to the Thessalonians, Thessalonica was the 
residence of the Proconsul who governed the province of Macedonia, and of the 
Gtuaestor who had the charge of the imperial revenues. Besides being the seat of 
government, this port carried on an extensive commerce, which caused a great in- 
flux of strangers from all quarters; so that Thessalonica was remarkable for the 
number, wealth, and learning of ils inhabitants. The Jews were extremely nu- 
merous here. The modern name of this place is Salonichi ; it is the chief port of 



PAUL. 521 

modern Greece, and has a population of sixty thousand persons, twelve thousand of 
whom are Jews. According to Dr. Clarke, this place is the same now as it was 
then; a set of turbulent Jews constituted a very considerable part of its population; 
and when St. Paul came here from Philippi to preach the gospel to the Thessaloni- 
ans, the Jews were numerous enough to ' set all the city in an uproar.' " (Williams.) 

After this specimen of popular excitement, it was too manifest 
that nothing could be done just then at Thessalonica by the apos- 
tolic ministers of Christ, and that very night therefore the breth- 
ren sent off Paul and Silas in the darkness, to Beroea, a city also 
in Macedonia, about fifty miles from Thessalonica, exactly west, 
being on the same parallel of latitude, standing on the south bank 
of the river Astroeus. Arriving there, they went into the syna- 
gogue of the Jews, who were here for the most part of a much 
better character than the mean Jews of the great trading city of 
Thessalonica, and being more independent and spiritual in their 
religious notions, were also much better prepared to appreciate the 
spiritual doctrines preached by Paul and Silas. They listened 
respectfully to the new preachers, and when the usual references 
were made to the standard passages in the Old Testament, univer- 
sally supposed to describe the Messiah, they diligently examined 
the passages for themselves, and studied out their correspondence 
with the events in the life of Jesus, which were mentioned by 
his preachers as perfectly parallel with these distinct prophecies. 
The natural result of this nobly candid and rational examination 
of this great question was, that many of these fair-minded and 
considerate Jews of Beroea professed their perfect conviction that 
Jesus was the Christ, and had by the actions of his life fully an- 
swered and completed the prophetic types of the Messiah. Here, 
too, as in Thessalonica, the Greek proselytes to Judaism readily 
and heartily accepted the doctrines of Jesus. But the gospel mes- 
sengers were not long allowed the enjoyment of this fine field of 
apostolic enterprise ; for their spiteful foes in Thessalonica, hearing 
how things were going on in Beroea, took the pains and trouble 
to journey all the way to that place, for the express purpose of hunt- 
ing out the preachers of Jesus by a new mob : and in this they 
were so successful, that the brethren, according to the established 
rules of Christian expediency, immediately sent away Paul to the 
south, because he seemed to be the grand object of the persecu- 
tion ; but Silas and Timothy being less obnoxious, still remained 
in Beroea. 

" Beroea was a city of Macedonia ; a great and populous city. Lucian de Asino, p. 
G39. D." (Whitby.) It was situated to the west of Thessalonica, and not " sovM" as 
Wells absurdly says, " almost directly on the way to Athens." 



522 



PAt-L. 



HIS VISIT TO ATHEXS. 

Paul, thus obeying the command given by Jesus in his first 
charge to the original twelve, went on under the guidance of his 
Beroean brethren, according to his own request, by sea. to Athens, 
where he parted from them, giving them charge to tell Silas and 
Timothy to come on after him. as soon as their commission in Ma- 
cedonia would allow. He then went about Athens, occupying the 
interval while he waited for them, in observations upon that most 
glorious of all earthly seats of art and taste. As he wandered 
on an unheeded stranger, among the still splendid and beautiful,, 
though then half-decaying works, which the combined devotion, 
pride and patriotism of the ancient Athenians had raised to their 
gods, their country, and its heroes. — in the beautifully picturesque 
yet simple expression of the apostolic historian, " Paul saw the 
city wholly given to idolatry." How many splendid associations 
does it call up before the mental eye of the classical scholar who 
reads it ? As the apostle wandered along among these thousand 
works of art. still so hallowed in the fond regard of the scholar, 
the antiquarian, the man of taste, the poet, and the patriot, his 
spirit was moved within him, when he every where saw how the 
whole city was given to idolatry. Not a spot but had its altar ; 
every grove was consecrated to its peculiar nymphs, its Dryads 
and its Fauns ; every stream and fountain had the votive marble 
for its own bright Nereid : — along the plain rose the splendid colon- 
nades of the yet mighty temples of Jupiter, and all the Olympian 
gods ; and above all. on the high Acropolis, the noble Parthenon 
rose over the glorious city, proclaiming to the eye of the distant 
traveler, the honors of the virgin goddess of wisdom, of taste and 
philosophic virtue, whose name crowned the city, of which she, 
was throughout all the reign of Polytheism, the guardian deity. 

These splendid but mournful testimonies of the misplaced en- 
ergies of that inborn spirit of devotion, which, all over the world 
in all times, moves the heart of man to the worship of that Eternal 
power of whose existence he is ever conscious, touched the spirit 
of Paul with other emotions than those of delight and admiration. 
The eye of the citizen of classical and splendid Tarsus, was not 
indeed blind to the beauties of these works of art, whose fame was 
spread throughout the civilized world, and with whose historic 
and poetic glories his eye and ear had long been made familiar ; 
but over them all was cast a moral and spiritual gloom which dark- 
ened all these high and rich remembrances, otherwise so bright. 



paul. 523 

Under the impulse of such feelings, he immediately sought occa- 
sion to make an attack on this dominant spirit of idolatry. He 
accordingly, in his usual theater of exertion, — the Jewish syna- 
gogue, — freely made known the new revelation of the truth in 
Jesus, both to the Jews, and to those Gentiles who reverenced 
the God of Israel, and listened to religious instruction in the Jew- 
ish house of worship. With such effect did he proclaim the truth, 
and with such fervid, striking oratory, that the Athenians, always 
admirers and cultivators of eloquence, soon had their attention 
very generally drawn to the foreign teacher, who was publishing 
these very extraordinary doctrines, in a style of eloquence so pe- 
culiar and irregular. The consequence was, that his audiences 
were soon extended beyond the regular attendants on the Jewish 
synagogue worship, and many of the philosophic sages of the 
Athenian schools sat listening to the apostle of Jesus. They soon 
undertook to encounter him in argument ; and Paul now resorting 
to that most classic ground, the Athenian forum, or Agora, was 
not slow to meet them. On the spot where Socrates once led the 
minds of his admiring hearers to the noble conceptions of moral 
truth, Paul now stood uttering to unaccustomed ears, the far more 
noble conceptions of a divine truth, that as far outwent the moral 
philosophy of " Athena's wisest son," as did the life, and death, 
and triumphs of the crucified Son of Man, the course and fate of 
the hemlock-drinker. Greatly surprised were his philosophical 
hearers, at these very remarkable doctrines, before unheard of in 
Greece, and various were the opinions and comments of the puz- 
zled sages. Some of those of the Epicurean and Stoic schools, 
more particularly, had their pride and scorn quite moved at the 
seeming presumption of this fluent speaker, who without diffi- 
dence or doubt uttered his strange doctrines, though characterized 
by a style full of irregularities, and a dialect remarkably distin- 
guished by barbarous provincialisms, and scornfully asked, " What 
does this rattling fellow mean ?" Others, observing that he claimed 
such divine honors for Jesus, the founder of his faith, remarked, 
that "he seemed to be a preacher of foreign deities." At last, deter- 
mined to have their difficulties resolved by the very highest au- 
thority, they took him before the very ancient and venerable court 
of the Areopagus, which was the supreme council in all matters 
that concerned religion. Here they invited him to make a full 
communication of the distinctive articles of his new faith, because 
they felt an honest desire to have the particulars of a subject 



524 



PAUL. 



never before introduced to their notice ; and a vast concourse 
stood by to hear that grand object of life to the news-hunting 
Athenians, — " a new thing." 

" With regard to the application of babbler, Eustathius gives two senses of the 
word o-TTSjj/zoXdyos. 1. The Attics called those v-£pno\6yoi who conversed in the mark- 
et, and places of merchandise. (In Odys. B. adfinem.) And Paul was disputing 
with those he met in the market-place. 2. It is used of those who, from some false 
opinions, boasted unreasonably of their learning. (Idem.) CEcumenius says, a 
little bird that gathered up the seeds scattered in the market-place, was called errep- 
jjio\6yos; in this etymology, Suidas, Phavorinus, the scholiast upon Aristophanes de 
Avibus, p. 569, and almost all grammarians agree. (Cave's Lives of the Apostles.) 
(Whitby's Annot.) 

' : 18. <7nepiJio\6yoi. This word is properly used of those little insignificant birds 
which support a precarious existence by picking up seeds scattered b}r the sower, or 
left above ground after the soil has been hariowed. See Mas. Tyr. Diss. 13, p. 
133., Harpocr., Aristoph. Ay. 232.. and the Scholiast, and Plutarch, T. 5, 50, edit. 
Reisk. It was metaphorically applied also to paupers who prowled about the market 
place, and lived by picking up any thing which might be dropped by buyers and 
sellers; and likewise to persons who gleaned in the corn fields. See Eustath. on 
Horn. Od. £. 241. Hence it was at length applied to all persons of mean condition, 
who, as we say, " live on their wits." Thus it is explained by Harpocrates evre\r,s, 
mean and contemptible. And so Philo 1021 c. xprjcd.nE.vos — 6ov\u> cxeppoXdyy -xepiTpiH- 
fiari.''' (Bloomfield's Annot. Acts xvii. 18.) 

" The Areopagus was a place in Athens, where the senate usually assembled and 
took its name (as some think) from "Apris which is the same as Mars, the god of war, 
who was the first person tried here, for having killed Apollo's son. Others think 
that, because apm sometimes signifies fighting, murder, or violence of any kind, and 
that iraybs is properly a rock, or rising hill, it therefore seems to denote a court situa- 
ted upon an eminence, (as the Areopagus was,) where causes of murder, &c. were 
tried. This court at present is out of the city, but in former times it stood almost in 
the middle of it. Its foundations, which are still standing, are built with square 
stones of prodigious size, in the form of a semi-circle, and support a terrace or plat- 
form, of about a hundred and forty paces, which was the court where this senate was 
held. In the midst of it, there was a tribunal cut in a rock, and all about were seats 
also of stone, where the senate heard causes in the open air, without any covering, 
and (as some say) in the night time, that they might not be moved to compassion at 
the sight of any criminal that was brought before them. This judicature was held 
in such high esteem for its uprightness, that when the Roman proconsuls ruled there, 
it was a very common thing for them to refer difficult causes to the judgment of the 
Areopagites. After the loss of their liberty, however, the authority of the senate 
declined, so that in the apostles' times, the Areopagus was not so much a court of ju- 
dicature as a common rendezvous, where all curious and inquisitive persons, who 
spent their time in nothing else, but either in hearing or telling some new thing, were 
accustomed to meet, Acts xvii. 21. Notwithstanding, they appeared still to have re- 
tained the privilege of canonizing all gods that were allowed public worship ; and 
therefore St. Paul was brought before them as an assertor and preacher of a Deity, 
whom they had not yet admitted among them. It does not appear that he was 
brought before them as a criminal, but merely as a man who had a new worship to 
propose to a people religious above all others, but who took care that no strange wor- 
ship should be received on a footing of a tolerated religion, till it had the approbation 
of a court appointed to judge such matters. The address of the court to St. Paul, 
'May we know what this doctrine is whereof thou speakest?' implies rather a 
request to a teacher, than an interrogatoiy to a criminal ; and accordingly his reply 
has not the least air of an apology, suiting a person accused, but is one continued 
information of important truths, such as it became a teacher or benefactor, rather 
than a person arraigned for crime, to give. He was therefore neither acquitted nor 
condemned, and dismissed as a man coram non jtidicc. We are indeed told, that 
when they heard of 'the resurrection of the dead,' some mocked, and others said, 
' We will hear thee again of this matter/ putting off the audience to an indefinite 
time; so that nothing was left him but to depart." (Calmet's Commentary. Beau- 
sobre's and Hammond's Annot., and Wavburton's Div. Leg.) 



paul. 525 

u That Athens was wholly enslaved to idolatry, has been abundantly proved by our 
philological illustrators, especially the indefatigable Wetstein, from Pausan. Attic. 
1, 24 : Strabo 10. p. 472, c : Lucian, 1. 1. Prometh. p. 180 : Li v. 45, 27. So also Pau- 
san. in Attic, c. 18, 24. (cited by Pearce and Doddridge,) who tells us, that Athens 
had more images than all the rest of Greece ; and Petron. Satir. c. 17, who humor- 
ously says, ' It was easier to find a god than a man there.'" (Bloomf. Annot.) 

" Kal it/ rrj iyopa. Of the market-places at Athens, of which there were many, 
the most celebrated were the Old and the New Forum. The former was in the Ce- 
ramicus, a very ample space, part within, and part without the city. See Meurs. 
Dissert, de Ceramico Gemino, § 46. and Potter's Archaeolog. 1, 8. p. 30. The latter 
was outside of the Ceramicus, in a place called Eretria. See Meur. Ath. Attic. 1. 1. 
c. 6. And this seems to be the one here meant. For no forum, except the Cerami- 
cus and the Eretriacum, was called, absolutely, ayopa, but had a name to denote 
which was meant, as Areopagiticum, Hippodamium, Piraeum, &c. In process of 
time, and at the period when Paul was at Athens, the forum was transferred from 
the Ceramicus into the Eretria ; a change which, indeed, had been introduced in the 
time of Augustus; and that this was the most frequented part of the city, we learn 
from Strabo 10. p. 447. Besides, the Eretriac forum was situated before the aroa, or 
portico, in which the Stoics, of whom mention is just after made, used to hold their 
public discourses. It was moreover called kvkXos, from its round form." 

" "Apeiov ndyov. Mars' Hill. Ildyos signifies properly a high situation. This was 
a hill opposite to that of the citadel on the west; as we learn from Herod. 8, 52. 
[See the passages produced supra, to which I add Li v. 26, 44. Tumulum quern Mer- 
curii vocant. Edit.] It was so called, either because it had been consecrated to Mars 
(as the Campus Martius at Rome,) or because (as Pausanius relates, Att. C. 28,) 
Mars, when he had slain Halyrrothius, son of Neptune, was the first who there 
pleaded a capital cause, which took place before the twelve gods. The judges used 
to sit by night, and sub alio ; and whatever was done w T as kept very secret, [whence 
the proverb ' kpeorvayirov oiooTrrj'XdTEpos, to which may be compared ours, ' as grave as a 
Judge.'' Edit.] They gave their judgment, not viva voce, but in writing. Nor 
were any admitted into the number of Areopagists but persons of noble birth, of 
unspotted morality, and eminent for justice and equity. See more in Meurs. de 
Areopago." (Kuin.) (Bloomf. Annot.) 

Paul taking his stand there, in that splendid scene, uttered in a 
bold tone and in his noblest style, the great truths which he was 
divinely consecrated to reveal. Never yet had Athens, in her 
most glorious state, heard a discourse which, for solemn beauty 
and lofty eloquence, could equal this brief declaration of the pro- 
vidence of God in the religion of his creatures. Never did the 
world see an orator in a sublimer scene, or in one that could awaken 
higher emotions in those who heard, or him who spoke. He stood 
on the hill of Mars, with Athens beneath and around him, and 
the mighty Acropolis rising with its " tiara of proud towers," walls 
and temples, on the west, — bounding and crowning the view in 
that direction ; — to the north-east lay the forum, the late scene of 
his discussions, and beyond lay the philosophic Academia, around 
and through which rolled the flowery Cephisus. Before him sat 
the most august and ancient court in the Grecian world, wait- 
ing for the revelation of his solemn commission respecting the new 
deities which he was expected to propose as an addition to their 
polytheistic list; — around him were the sages of the Athenian 
schools, listening in grave but curious attention, for the new things 

67 



526 



PAUL. 



which the eastern stranger had brought to their ears. The apos- 
tle raised his eyes to all the monuments of Athenian devotion 
which met the view on every side. Before him on the high 
Acropolis was the mighty temple of the Athenian Minerva ; on 
the plain beyond was the splendid shrine of the Olympian Jove ; 
on his right was the temple of Theseus, the deified ancient king 
of Attica, who laid the first foundation of her glories ; and near 
were the new piles which the later Grecian adulation had conse- 
crated to the worship of her foreign conquerors — to the deified 
Caesars. Beginning in that tone of dignified politeness, which 
always characterized his address towards the great ones of earth, 
he won their hearts and their attention by a courteously compli- 
mentary allusion to the devout though misguided zeal, whose solid 
tokens everywhere surrounded him. " Ye men of Athens ! I 
see in all places that you are very religious. For passing 
along and gazing at the shrines of your devotion, I found an 
altar on which was written, — ' To the unknown God :' — Him 
therefore, whom, not knowing, you worship, I preach to you.' 7 
The rest of this splendid, though brief discourse, need not be re- 
peated, because it is given with tolerable fidelity in the common 
English translation ; but it deserves notice how readily and com- 
pletely, on all occasions, Paul accommodated himself to the cir- 
cumstances of his hearers. His style on this occasion is remark- 
ably protracted and rounded in its periods, highly cumulative in 
structure, and harmonious in its almost rhythmical flow ; — the 
whole bearing the character which was best suited to the fancy and 
fashion of the Athenians, — though still very decidedly marked by 
the peculiarities of his eastern origin. Here too, he gave them a 
favorable impression of his knowledge of the Grecian classics, by 
his apt and happy quotation from Aratus, the philosophical poet 
of his native province, Cilicia. " For we also are his offspring." 

Very religious. — This is un question ably the just meaning of xvii. 22. See Bloom- 
field and all the standard commentators. <: Too superstitions" is insulting. 

"\To the Unknown God.' (xvii. 23.) — It is very evident from the testimony of 
Laertius, that the Athenians had altars in their public places, inscribed to unknown 
gods or demons. He informs us, that when Athens was visited with a great plague, 
the inhabitants invited Epimenides the philosopher, to lustrate their city. The 
method adopted by him was to carry several sheep to the Areopagus; whence they 
were left to wander as they pleased, under the observation of persons sent to attend 
them. As each sheep lay down, it was sacrificed on the spot to the propitious god ; 
(In vita Epimen. lib. xi.) and as the Athenians were ignorant of what god was pro- 
pitious, they erected an altar with this inscription, GEOIS AEIAS, KAI EYPflnHS, KAI 
AIBHYS, GEii AriN T £22TJl KAI HENil : — To the gods of Asia, Europe, and Afriea, to the 
strange and unknown god. 

" On the architrave of a Doric, portico at Athens, which'was standing when that city 
was visited about sixty years since, by Dr. Chandler and Mr. Stuart, is a Greek ia- 



PAUL. 527 

Scription to the following purport :— " The people" [of Athens have erected this fa- 
bric] " with the donations to Minerva Archegetia," [or the conductress,] by the god 
Caius Julius Caesar and his son the god Augustus, when Nicias was Archon." Over 
the middle of the pediment was a statue of Lucius Caesar, with this inscription :— 
" The people" [honor] " Lucius Caesar, the son of the Emperor Augustus Caesar, 
the son of the god." There was also a statue to Julia, the daughter to Augustus, and 
the mother of Lucius, thus inscribed :— " The Senate of the Areopagus, and the Sen- 
ate of the Six Hundred" [dedicate this statue to] " the goddess Julia, Augusta, Prov- 
ident." These public memorials supply an additional proof of the correctness of 
Paul's observations on the Athenians, that they were too much addicted to the adop- 
tion of objects for worship and devotion." (Hammond's Annot. Cave's Lives of the 
Apos., Home's Introd,) 

As he concluded however, with the solemn declaration of the 
great foundation-truth of Christianity, — that God had raised Jesus 
from the dead, — there was a very general burst of contempt from 
the more scornful portion of his audience, at the idea of anything 
so utterly against all human probability. Of the immortality of 
the soul, the divinest of their own philosophers had reasoned, — 
and it was by most of the Athenian sects, considered on the whole, 
tolerably well established ; but the notion of the actual revivifica- 
tion of the perished body, — the recall of the scattered dust and 
ashes, to the same breathing, moving, acting, thinking form, which 
for ages had ceased to be, — all amounted to a degree of improba- 
ble absurdity, — that not the wildest Grecian speculator had ever 
dreamed of. So the proud Epicureans and Stoics turned sneer- 
ingly away from the barbarian stranger who had come so far to 
try their credulity with such a tale ; and thus they for ever lost 
the opportunity to learn from this new-opened fountain of truth, 
a wisdom that the long researches of all the Athenian schools had 
never reached and could never reach, without the light of this 
truly divine eastern source, which they now so thoughtlessly 
scorned. But there were some, more considerate, among the 
hearers of the apostle, who had learned that it is the most decided 
characteristic of a true philosopher, to reject nothing at first sight 
or hearing, though it may happen to be contrary to his own peiv 
sonai experience and learning ; and these, weighing the matter 
with respectful doubt, told Paul — " We will hear thee again about 
this." Without any further attempt to unfold the truth at that 
time, Paul departed from the Areopagus, and no more uplifted 
his voice on the high places of Athens, in testimony of that sol- 
emn revelation of the Son of Man from the dead, — the conviction 
of whose truth, in spite of all philosophic sneers, was destined to 
overs weep the whole of that world which they knew, and a new 
one beyond it, and to exalt the name of that despised wanderer to 



528 paul. 

a fame compared with which that of Socrates should be small. Paul 
was however afterwards visited by several of those who heard him 
before the Areopagus ; and after a free, conversational discussion 
of the whole subject, and a more familiar exhibition of the evi- 
dences of his remarkable assertions, professed their satisfaction 
with the arguments, and believed. Among these, even one of 
the judges of the august Areopagus owned himself a disciple of 
Jesus. Besides him is mentioned a woman named Damaris ; and 
others not specified, are said to have believed. 

"' Dionysius the Areopagite.'' Acts xvii. 34. — Dionysius is said to have been bred at 
Athens in all the arts and sciences: at the age of twenty-five he went into Egypt to 
learn astronomy. At the time of our Savior's death he was at Heliopolis, where, 
observing the darkness that attended the passion, he cried out thus : — ' That certain- 
ly, at that time, either God himself suffered, or was much concerned for somebody 
that did.' Returning to Athens he became one of the senators of the Areopagus ; 
he was converted by St. Paul, and by him appointed bishop of Athens. Having la- 
bored and suffered much for the holy cause, he became a martyr to the faith, being 
burnt to death at Athens, in the 93d year of Christ." (Cave's Lives of the Apostles. 
Stanhope on Epis. and Gos. Calmet's Dictionary.) 

From the grave manner in which this story is told, thereader would naturally sup- 
pose that these great writers had some authority for these incidents; but in reality, 
everything that concerns Dionysius the Areopagite, is utterly unknown ; and not one 
of these impudent inventions can be traced back further than the sixth century. 

After this tolerably hopeful beginning of the gospel in Athens, 
Paul left that city, and went southwestward to Corinth, then the 
most splendid and flourishing city of all Greece, and the capital 
of the Roman province of Achaia. It was famous, beyond all the 
cities of the world, for its luxury and refinement, — and the name 
of u Corinthian" had, long before the time of Paul, gone forth as a 
proverbial expression for what was splendid in art, brilliant in in- 
vention, and elegant in vice. 

Here first arose that sumptuous order of architecture that still 
perpetuates the proverbial elegance of the splendid city of its 
birth, and the gorgeously beautiful style of the rich Corinthian 
column, " waving its wanton wreath," — may be taken as an 
aptly expressive emblem of the general moral and internal, as 
well as external characteristics of this last home of true Grecian 
art. Here longest tarried the taste, art and refinement, which so 
eminently marked the first glories of Greece, and when the tri- 
umphs of that ancient excellence were beginning to grow dim in 
its brighter early seats in Attica and in Ionian Asia, they flashed 
out with a most dazzling beauty in the splendid city of the Isth- 
mus, — but alas ! — in a splendor that was indeed only a passing 
flash, — a last brilliant gleam from this glorious spot, before the 
lamp of Hellenic glory in art, went out forever. In the day of 



paul. 529 

the apostle's visit however, it was in its most u high and palmy 
state," — the queen of the Grecian world. It was glorious too, in 
the dearest recollections of the patriotic history of Greece ; for 
here was the center of that last brilliant Achaian confederacy, 
which was cherished by the noble spirits of Aratus and Philopoe- 
men ; and here too was made the last stand against the all-crush- 
ing advance of the legions of Rome ; and when it fell at last be- 
fore that resistless conquering movement, — " great was the fall of 
it." The burning of Corinth by Mummius, (B. C. 144, the year 
of the fall of Carthage,) is infamous above all the most barbarous 
acts of Roman conquest, for its melancholy destruction of the 
works of ancient art, with which it then abounded. But from 
the ashes of this mournful rain, it rose soon after, under the 
splendid patronage of Roman dominion, to a new splendor, that- 
equalled, or perhaps outwent the glories of its former perfection, 
which had been ripening from the day when, as recorded by old 
Homer, in the freshness of its early power, it sent forth its noble 
armaments to the siege of Troy, or set afloat the earliest warlike 
navy in the world, or was made, through a long course of centu- 
ries, the center of the most brilliant of Grecian festivals, in the 
celebration of the Isthmian games before its walls. The Roman 
conquerors, as if anxious to make to this ancient seat of Grecian 
splendor, a full atonement for the barbarous ruin with which they 
had overwhelmed it, now showered on it all the honors and fa- 
vors in their power. It was rebuilt as a Roman colony, — endow- 
ed by the munificence of senates, consuls, and emperors, and made 
the capital of the Roman province of Achaia, until the dismem- 
berment of the empire. Shining in its gaudy fetters, it became 
what it has been described to be in the apostolic age, and was then 
beyond all doubt the greatest Grecian city in Europe, if not in 
the world. Athens was then mouldering in more than incipient 
decay — " the ghost of its former self;" for even Cicero, long be- 
fore this, describes it as presenting everywhere spectacles of the 
most lamentable ruin and decline ; but Corinth was in the highth 
of its glory, — its luxury, — its vice, — its heathen wickedness, — and 
may therefore be justly esteemed the most important scene of labor 
into which apostolic enterprise had ever yet made its way, and 
to have been well worthy of the attention which it ever after re- 
ceived from him, to the very last of his life, being made the occa- 
sion and object of a larger and a more splendid portion of his 
epistolary labors, than all with which he ever favored any other 



530 paul. 

place in the world ; nor can this protracted notice of its condition 
and character be justly blamed for its intrusion on this hurried 
narrative. 

" Corinth. — There is scarcely any one of the seats of ancient magnificence and 
luxury, that calls up more vivid and powerful associations, than are awakened by 
the name of this once opulent and powerful cit3'. Corinth, 'the prow and stern of 
Greece,' the emporium of its commerce, the key and bulwark of the Peloponnesus, 
was proverbial for its wealth as early as the time of Homer. Its situation was so 
advantageous for the inexperienced navigation of early times, that it became of ne- 
cessity the center of trade. The first naval battle on record was fought between 
Corinth and its colony Corcyra, about 657 B. C. ' Syracuse, the ornament of Sicily, 
Corcyra, some time sovran of the seas, Ambracia in Epiras, and several other cities 
more or less flourishing, owe their origin to Corinth.' (Trav. of Anarchasis, vol. III. 
c. 37.) Thucydides states, that the Corinthian ship-builders first produced galleys 
with three benches of oars. The circumnavigation of the peninsula was tedious 
and uncertain to a proverb ; while at the Isthmus, not only their cargoes, but, if re- 
quisite, the smaller vessels might be transported from sea to sea. By its port of Cen- 
chreae. it received the rich merchandise of Asia, and by that of Lechaeum, it main- 
tained intercourse with Italy and Sicily. The Isthmian Games, by the concourse 
of people which they attracted at their celebration, contributed not a little to its im- 
mense opulence ; and the prodigality of its merchants rendered the place so expen- 
sive, that it became a saying, ' It is not for every one to go to Corinth.' Even after 
its barbarous destruction by the Romans, it must have been an extrernel)- magnificent 
city. Pausanias mentions in and near the city, a theater, an odeum, a stadium, and 
sixteen temples. That of Venus possessed above a thousand female slaves. ' The 
women of Corinth are distinguished b)- their beaut3 T ; the men by their love of gain 
and pleasure. They ruin their health by convivial debauches, and love with them 
is only licentious passion. Venus is their principal deity. .... The Corinthians, 
who performed such illustrious acts of valor in the Persian war, becoming enerva- 
ted by pleasure, sunk under the yoke of the Argives; were obliged alternately to 
solicit the protection of the Lacedaemonians, the Athenians, and the Thebans : and 
are at length reduced to be only the wealthiest, the most effeminate, and the weakest 
state in Greece.' " (Anacharsis.) (Mod. Trav. pp. 160, 161.) 

The Hebrew stranger, entering without despondency, this new 
scene of labor, passed on unnoticed, and looking about for those 
with whom he might be bold to communicate, on the score of na- 
tional and religious sympathies, he found among those who like 
himself were strangers, a Jew, by name Aquilas, who with his 
wufe Priscilla had lately arrived from Italy, whence they had just 
been driven by a vexatious decree of Claudius Caesar, which, on 
some groundless accusation, ordered all the Jews to depart from 
Rome. Aquilas, though lately a resident in Italy, was originally 
from Pontus in the northern part of Asia Minor, not very far from 
Paul's native province ; and this proximity of origin joined to 
another circumstance arising out of it, drew the strangers together, 
in this foreign city. In Pontus even at this day is carried on 
that same famous manufacture of camlet articles for which Cilicia 
was also distinguished and proverbial, and it is therefore perfectly 
reasonable to suppose that in that age also, this business was com- 
mon in the same region, because the variety of goat which pro- 



PAUL. 531 

duces the material, has always been confined within those limits. 
Being of the same trade, then, and both of them friendless stran- 
gers, seeking employment and support, Paul and Aquilas fell into 
one another's company and acquaintance, and getting work at the 
same time, they seem to have set up a kind of partnership in 
their trade, living together, and working in the same way, from 
day to day. This, of course, gave constant opportunity for the 
freest communication on all subjects of conversation ; and Aquila 
would not be long in finding out the great object, which had led 
Paul away from his country and friends, to a place where his ne- 
cessities drove him to the laborious exercise of an occupation, 
which a person of his rank and character could not originally 
have acquired with any intention of gaining his livelihood 
thereby. That this was the sole motive of his present applica- 
tion to his tedious business, is abundantly testified in the epistles, 
which he afterwards wrote to this same place ; for he expressly 
says, that he " was chargeable to no man," but " labored with his 
own hands." Yet the diligent pursuit of this laborious avoca- 
tion, did not prevent him from appearing on the sabbath, in the 
synagogue, as a teacher of divine things ; nor would the noble 
principles of Jewish education permit any man to despise the 
stranger on account of his necessitous and apparently humble 
circumstances, His weekly ministry was therefore pursued with- 
out hindrance, and with success ; for " he persuaded the Jews and 
the Greeks." Among those who received the most eminent ad- 
vantage from his apostolic labors, wa his fellow- workman Aquilas, 
who with his wife Priscilla, here imbibed such a portion of Chris- 
tian knowledge, as ever after made both him and her, highly 
useful as teachers of the new faith, to which they were at this 
time converted. It would seem, however, that Paul did not, du- 
ring the first part of his ministrations, very openly and energet- 
ically proclaim the grand doctrine of the faith ; for it was not till 
after the arrival of Silas and Timothy from Macedonia, that he 
■" pressed on in the word, and testified to the Jews that Jesus was 
the Messiah." As had usually been the case, whenever he had pro- 
claimed this solemn truth to his own countrymen, he was met by 
the Corinthian Jews, for the most part, with a most determined 
and scornful opposition ; so that renouncing their fellowship in 
the expressive gesture of an Oriental, — shaking his raiment, — he 
declared — " Your blood be on your own heads : — I am clean. 
Henceforth, I will go to the Gentiles." Leaving their company 3 



532 



PAUL. 



he then went into the house of a religious friend, close to the 
synagogue, and there took up his abode. But not all the Jews 
were involved in the condemnation of this rejection. On the con- 
trary, one of the most eminent men among them, Crispus, either 
then or formerly the ruling elder of the synagogue, professed the 
faith of Jesus, notwithstanding its unpopularity. Along with him 
his whole family were baptized, and many other Corinthians re- 
ceived the word in the same manner. In addition to these nobly 
encouraging results of his devoted labors, his ardor in the cause 
of Jesus received a new impulse from a remarkable dream, in 
which the Lord appeared to him, uttering these words of high 
consolation, — " Fear not, but speak, and hold not thy peace ; for 
I am with thee, and no one shall hurt thee. I have many 
people in this city." Under the combined influence of both natu- 
ral and supernatural encouragements, he therefore remained zeal- 
ously laboring in Corinth, and made that city his residence, as 
liUke very particularly records, for a year and six months. 

"xviii. 5. owz'iXeTo too \6yu>, &c. The common reading is irvEv^a^. Now since owi- 
XtaQat, among other significations, denotes a?igi, maerore corripi, (see Luke 12. 50, 
and the note on Matt. 4. 34,) many Commentators, as Hammond, Mill, and Wolf, 
explain, "angebatur Pauius animo, dum docebat Judaeos, Jesum esse Messiam ;" 
viz. " since he could produce no effect among them." And they compare ver. 6. 
But this interpretation is at variance with the context. 

■'■'Now this verb also signifies to incite, urge; as in 2 Cor. v. 14. Hence Beza, 
Pricaeus, and others, explain : ' intus et apud se aestuebat prae zeli ardore ;' which 
interpretation I should admit, if there were not reason to suppose, from the authority 
of MSS. and Versions, that the true reading, (though the more difficult one,) is 
Avyy, of which the best interpretation, and that most suitable to the context, is the 
one found in the Vulg. ' instabat verbo.' For awix^ai denotes also to be held, occu- 
pied, by anything; as in Sap. 17, 20. Herodot. 1, 17, 22. Aelian, V. H. 14, 22. This 
signification of the word being admitted, the sense will be : ' When they had ap- 
proached whom Paul (who knew that combined strength is most efficacious; had ex- 
pected as his assistants in promulgating the Christian doctrine, and of whom, in so 
large and populous a city there was need, then he applied himself closely to the work 
of teaching.' Kuin. (Bloomfield's Annot. p. 593.) 

HIS EPISTLES "WRITTEN FROM CORINTH. 

The period of his residence in this city is made highly inter- 
esting and important in the history of the sacred canon, by the 
circumstance that here he wrote some of the first of those epis- 
tles to his various missionary charges, which constitute the most 
controverted and the most doctrinal portion of the New Testa- 
ment. In treating of these writings, in the course of the narra- 
tive of his life, the very contracted limits now left to his biogra- 
pher, will make it necessary to be much more brief in his literary 
history, than in that of those other apostles, whose writings have 
claimed and received so full a statement, under their respective 



PAUL. 



533 



lives. Nor is there so much occasion for the labors of the apos- 
tolic historian on this part of the history of the apostolic works, 
as on those already so fully treated ; for while the history of the 
writings of Peter, John, Matthew, James and Jude, has so seldom 
been presented to the eyes of common readers, the writings of 
Paul, which have always been the great storehouse of Protestant 
dogmatism, have been discussed and amplified in their history, 
scope, character, and style, more fully than all the rest of the 
Bible, for common readers; but in the great majority of instances, 
proving such a comment on the sadly prophetical words of Peter 
on these very writings, that the apostolic historian may well and 
wisely dread to immerse himself in such a sea of difficulties as pre- 
sents itself to view ; and he therefore cautiously avoids any inter- 
meddling with discussions which will possibly involve him in the 
condemnation pronounced by the great apostolic chief, on those " un- 
learned and unstable," who even in his time had begun to " wrest 
to their own destruction, the things hard to be understood in the 
epistles of his beloved brother Paul ;" a sentence which seems to 
have been wholly overlooked by the great herd of dogmatizing 
commentators, who, very often, without either the " learning" 
or the u stability," which Peter thought requisite for the safe in- 
terpretation of the Pauline epistles, have rushed on to the task of 
vulgarizing these noble and honest writings, to suit the base pur- 
poses of some popular system of mystical words and complex 
doctrines. If then, the "unlearned and unstable" have been thus 
distinctly warned by the highest apostolic authority, against med- 
dling with these obscure and peculiar writings ; and since the 
whole history of didactic theology is so full of melancholy com- 
ments on the undesignedly prophetical force of Peter's denuncia- 
tion,— it is no more than prudent to decline the slightest interference 
with a subject, which has been on such authority declared to re- 
quire the possession of so high a degree of learning and stability, 
for its safe and just treatment. The few things which may be 
safely stated, will merely concern the place, time and immediate 
occasion of the writing of each of these epistles. 

In the first place, as to the order in which these works of Paul 
are arranged in the common New Testament canon, it should be 
observed that it has reference neither to date, subject, nor anything 
whatever in their character or object, except the very arbitrary 
circumstance of the rank and importance of the places and per- 
sons that were the original objects of their composition. The 

68 



534 faul, 

epistle to the Romans is always placed first, because the imperial 
city to which it was directed was beyond all question the greatest 
in the world. The epistles to the Corinthians are next, because 
that city was the nearest in rank and importance to Rome, of all 
those which were the objects of Paul's epistolary attentions. The 
epistle to the Galatians is next, because it was directed to a great 
province, inferior indeed in importance, to the two great cities 
before mentioned, but vastly above any of the other places to 
which Paul wrote. The epistle to the Ephesians comes next, 
because Ephesus ranked far above any of the cities which fol- 
low. Philippi was stqjposed, by those who arranged the canon, 
greater than Colosse and Thessalonica, because it was thought to 
have been a capital city. Thus all those epistles which are 
addressed to whole churches, are placed first ; and those which 
are addressed to individuals in the same manner, form a class 
by themselves ; that to Timothy being placed first of these, be- 
cause he was the most eminent of all the apostle's assistants, — 
Titus being inferior to him in dignity, and Philemon, a per- 
son of no account at all, except from the bare circumstance, that 
he was accidentally the subject of Paul's notice. The epistle to 
the Hebrews is last of all, because it is altogether peculiar in its 
character, addressed neither to churches, nor to an individual, but 
to a whole nation, being published and circulated for their gene- 
ral benefit. The circumstance also that it was long denied a place 
in the canon, and considered as a spurious writing, improperly 
attributed to Paul, probably caused it to be put last of all his wri- 
tings, when in the course of time, it was at length allowed 
a place in the canon. 

FIRST EPISTLE TO THE THESSALONIANS. 

That epistle which the great majority of all modern critics 
consider as the earliest of all those writings of Paul that are 
now preserved, is the first to the Thessalonians. It is directed 
to them from Paul, Silvanus, (or Silas,) and Timothy, which 
shows that it was written after Paul had been joined by these 
two brethren, which was not until some time after his arrival in 
Corinth. It appears by the second and third chapters, that the 
apostle, having been hindered by some evil agency of the wicked, 
from visiting Thessalonica, as he had earnestly desired to do, had 
been obliged to content himself with sending Timothy to the 
brethren there, to comfort them in their faith, and to inquire 
whether they yet stood fast in their first honorable profession ; for 



paul. 535 

he declares himself to have been anxious to know whether by- 
some means the tempter might not have tempted them, and his 
labor have thus been in vain. But he now informs them how 
he has lately been greatly comforted by the good news brought 
from them by Timothy, who had assured the apostle of their 
faith and love, and that they had great remembrance of him al- 
ways, desiring much to see him, as he them. Making known to 
them the great joy which these tidings had caused in him, he 
now affectionately re-assures them of his high and constant re- 
gard for them, and of his continued remembrance of them in 
his prayers. He then proceeds briefly to exhort them to a perse- 
verance in the Christian course, in which they had made so fair 
an outset, urging upon them more especially, those virtues which 
were peculiarly rare among those with whom they were daily 
brought in contact, — purity of life, rigid honesty in business trans- 
actions, a charitable regard for the feelings of others, a quiet, peace- 
able, inoffensive deportment, and other minuter counsels, ac- 
cording to the peculiar circumstances of different persons among 
them. The greater portion of this brief letter, indeed, is taken 
up with these plain, practical matters, with no reference to any 
deep doctrinal subjects, the whole being thus evidently well-suited 
to the condition of believers who had but just begun the Christian 
course, and had been in no way prepared to appreciate any learn- 
ed discussion of those obscure points which in later periods were 
the subject of so much controversy among some of Paul's con- 
verts. Their dangers hitherto had also been mainly in the moral 
rather than in the doctrinal way, and the only error of mere belief, to 
which he makes reference, is one which has always been the oc- 
casion of a great deal of harmless folly among the ignorant and 
the weak minded in the Christian churches, from the apostolic 
age to this day. The evil however, was considered by the apos- 
tle of so much importance, that he thought it worth while to 
briefly expose its folly to the Thessalonians, and he accordingly 
discourses to them of the day of judgment, assuring them that those 
who might happen to be alive at the moment of Christ's coming, 
would derive no peculiar advantage from that circumstance, be- 
cause those who had died in Christ should rise first, and the sur- 
vivors be then caught up to meet the Lord in the air. But as for 
" the times and the seasons," — those endless themes for the discur- 
sive nonsense of the visionary, even to the present day and hour, 
— he assures them that there was no need at all that he should 



536 paul. 

write to them, because they already well knew that the day of the 
Lord should come as a thief in the night, according to the words 
of Jesus himself. The only practical benefit which they could 
expect to derive then, from this part of their faith, was the convic- 
tion of the necessity of constantly bearing in mind the shortness 
and uncertainty of their earthly stay, and the importance of watch- 
fulness and sobriety. After several sententious moral exhorta- 
tions, he concludes with affectionate salutations, and with an ear- 
nest, solemn charge, that the letter should be read to all the breth- 
ren of the church. 

It will be observed, that at the conclusion of the epistle is a 
statement that it was written from Athens, — an assertion perfectly 
absurd, and rendered evidently so by the statements contained 
in the epistle itself, as above shown. Ail the similar statements 
appended to his other epistles are equally unauthorized, and most 
of them equally false ; — being written by some exceedingly foolish 
copyists, who were too stupid to understand the words which they 
transcribed. Yet these idle falsehoods are gravely given in all 
copies of the English translation, and are thus continually sent 
abroad to mislead common readers, many of whom, seeing them 
thus attached to the apostolic writings, suppose them to be also 
of inspired authorit}^, and are deceived accordingly. And they 
probably will continue to be thus copied, in spite of their palpable 
and mischievous falsehood, until such a revolution in the moral 
sense of common people takes place, that they shall esteem a new 
negative truth more valuable and interesting, than an old, ground- 
less blunder. 

For some time after the writing of the first epistle to the Thes- 
salonians, with these triumphs and other encouragements, Paul 
and his faithful helpers appear to have gone on steadily in their 
apostolic labors, with no special obstacle or difficulty, that is com- 
memorated in the sacred record. But at last their old difficulties 
began to manifest themselves in the gradually awakened enmity 
of the Jews, who, though at his first distinct public ministrations 
they had expressed a decided paid scornful opposition to the doe- 
trine of a crucified Savior, yet suffered the new teachers to go on, 
without opposing them any farther than by scornful verbal hos- 
tility, blasphemy and abuse. But when they saw the despised 
heresy making such rapid advances, notwithstanding the con- 
tempt with which it was visited, they immediately determined to 
let it no longer take advantage of their inefficiency in resisting its 



PAUL, 56( 

progress. Of course, deprived themselves, of all political power, 
they had not the means of meeting the evil by physical violence, 
and they well knew that any attempt on their part to raise an il- 
legal commotion against the strangers, would only bring down on 
the exciters of the disturbance, the whole vengeance of their Ro- 
man rulers, who were unsparing in their vengeance on those that 
undertook to defy the forms of their laws, for the sake of persecu- 
tion, or any private ends ; and least of all would a class of people 
so peculiar and so disliked as the Jews, be allowed to take any 
such treasonable steps, without insuring them a most dreadful 
punishment. These circumstances therefore compelled them to 
proceed, as usual, under the forms of law ; and their first step 
against Paul therefore, was to. apprehend him, and take him, as a 
violator of religious order, before the highest Roman tribunal,— that 
of the proconsul. 

The proconsul of Acliaia, holding his supreme seat of justice 
in. Corinth, the capital of that Roman province, was Lucius Ju- 
nius Gallio, a man well known to the readers of one of the classic 
Latin writers of that age, — Seneca, — as one of the most remarka- 
ble exemplifications of those noble virtues which were the great 
theme of this philosophers pen. Out of many beautiful illustra- 
tions which may be drawn from Roman and Jewish writers, to 
explain and amplify the honest and faithful apostolic history of 
Luke, there is none more striking and gratifying than the aid here 
drawn from this fine philosophical classic, on the character of the 
noble proconsul, who by mis upright, wise, and clement decision, 
against the mean persecutors of Paul,— arid by his indignant re- 
fusal to pervert and degrade his vice-regal power to the base ends 
of private abuse, has acquired the grateful regard and admiring 
respect of all Christian readers of apostolic history. The name 
of Lucius Junius Gallio, by which he is known to Roman writers 
as well as in apostolic history, was not his original family desig- 
nation, and therefore gives the reader no idea of his interesting 
relationship to one of the finest moralists of the whole period of 
the Roman empire. His original family name was Marcus An- 
naeus Novatus Seneca, — which appellation he exchanged for his 
later one, on being adopted by Lucius Junius Gallio, a noble Ro- 
man, who being destitute of children, adopted, according to a ve- 
ry common custom of the imperial city, one of a family that had 
already given promise of a fine reward to those who should 
take its offspring as theirs. The famous philosopher before men- 



533 



PAUL. 



tioned, — Lucius Annaens Seneca, — was his own brother ; both of 
them being the sons of Marcus Annaeus Seneca, a distinguished 
orator and rhetorician of the Augustan age. A strong and truly 
fraternal affection always continued to hold the two brothers to- 
gether, even after they had been separated in. name by the adop- 
tion of the older into the family of Gallio ; and the philosopher 
often commemorates his noble brother, in terms of high respect j 
and dedicated to him one of the most perfect of those moral trea- 
tises which have immortalized the name of Seneca. 

The philosopher Seneca, after having been for many years ban- 
ished from Rome by Claudius, was at length recalled by that em- 
peror in the ninth year of his reign, corresponding to A. D. 
49. He was immediately made a senator, and was still further 
honored by being intrusted with the education of Domitius, the 
son of Agrippina, afterwards adopted by Claudius as heir to the 
throne, to which he succeeded on the emperor's death, under the 
name of Nero, by which he has now become so infamous wherev- 
er the Roman name is known. Being thus elevated to authority 
and great influence with the emperor, Seneca made use of his 
power, to procure for his brother Gallio such official honors as his 
talents and character justly claimed. In the eleventh year of 
Claudius he was made consul, as is recorded in the Fasti Consu- 
lares ; and was soon after sent into Greece, as proconsul of Achaia. 
Arriving at Corinth in the year 53, he was immediately addressed 
by the Jewish citizens of that place in behalf of their plot against 
Paul ; for they naturally supposed that this would be the best 
time for the attempt to bend the new governor to their purposes, 
when he was just commencing his administration, and would be 
anxious to please the subjects of his power by his opening acts. 
But Gallio had no disposition to acquire popularity with any class 
of citizens, by any such abuse of power, and b>y his conduct on 
this occasion very fairly justifies the high character given him by 
his brother Seneca. When the Jews came dragging Paul before 
the proconsular tribunal, with the accusation — " This fellow per- 
suades men to worship God in a manner contrary to the ritual, "— - 
before Paul could open his mouth in reply, Gallio carelessly an- 
swered — " If it were a matter of crime or misdemeanor, ye Jews ! 
it would be reasonable that I should bear with you ; but if it be 
a question of words and names, and of your ritual, look ye to it ; 
for I do not wish to be a judge of those things." With this con- 
temptuous reply, he cleared the court of them. The Jews thus 



paul. 539 

found their line scheme of abasing Paul under the sanction of 
the Roman tribunal, perfectly frustrated; nor was their calamity 
confined to this disappointment ; for ail the Greeks who were 
present at the trial, — indignant at the scandalous character of the 
proceeding, — took Sosthenes, the ruling elder of the synagogue, 
who had probably been most active in the persecution of Paul, as 
he was the regular legal chief of the Jews, and gave him a sound 
threshing in the court, before he could obey the orders of the 
Proconsul, and move off from the tribunal. Gallio was so far 
from being displeased at this very irregular and improper out- 
break of public feeling, that he took no notice of the action what- 
ever, though it was a shameful violation of the dignity of his tri- 
bunal ; and it may therefore be reasonably concluded that he was 
very much provoked against the Jews, and was disposed to sym- 
pathize with Paul ; otherwise he would have been apt to have 
punished the outrage of the Greeks upon Sosthenes. 

" The name of this proconsul was Marcus Annaeus Novatus, but being- adopted 
by Lucius Junius Gallio, he took the name of his adopted father ; he was brother to 
the famous Seneca, tutor to Nero. That philosopher dedicated to Gallio his book, 
" De Vita Beata." The Roman historians concur in giving him the character of a 
sweet disposition, an enemy to all vice, and particularly a hater of flattery. He was 
twice made proconsul of Achaia, first by Claudius, and afterwards by Nero. As he 
was the sharer of his brother's prosperity, so he was of his misfortunes, when he fell 
under Nero's displeasure, and was at length put to death by the tyrant, as well as his 
brother." (Calmet's Comment. Poole's Annot. Williams on Pearson.) 

" In Acts xviii. 12-16, we find Paul is brought before Gallio by the Jews, but this pro- 
consul refused to judge any such matters, as not coming within his jurisdiction. The 
character for justice, impartiality, prudence, and mildness of disposition, which this 
passage gives to Gallio, is confirmed by Seneca, his brother, in these words: — Sole- 
bam tibi dicere, Gallionem fratrem m'eum (quem nemo non parum amat, etiam qui 
amare plus non potest,) alia vitia non nosse, hoc etiam, (i. e. adulationem,) odisse. — 
Nemo enim mortalium uni tarn dulcis est, quam hie omnibus. Hoc quoque loco 
blanditiis tuis restitit, ut exclamares invenisse te inexpugnabilem virum adversus in- 
sidias, quas nemo non in sinum recipit. (L. Ann. Seneca, Natural. Gtuaest. lib. iv. 
in praef. op. torn. iv. p. 267, edit. Bipont.) In our translation Gallio is styled the dep- 
uty, but the real Greek word is AvdvnarwovTos, proconsul. The accuracy of Luke in 
this instance is very remarkable. In the partition of the provinces of the Roman em- 
pire, Macedonia and Achaia were assigned to the people and Senate of Rome. In 
the reign of Tiberius they were, at their own request, made over to the emperor. In 
the reign of Claudius, (A. U. C. 797. A. D. 44,) they were again restored to the Sen- 
ate, after which time proconsuls were sent into this country. Nero afterwards made 
the Achaians a free people. The Senate therefore lost this province again. How- 
ever, that they might not be sufferers, the emperor gave them the island of Sardinia, 
in the room of it. Vespasian made Achaia a province again. There is likewise a 
peculiar propriety in the name of the province of which Gallio was proconsul. The 
country subject to him was all Greece; but the proper name of the province among 
the Romans was Achaia, as appears from various passages of the Roman historians, 
and especially from the testimony of Pausanias. KaXovat Se ov^ 'EXAa^oj^aXAa' Aa^w 

f)ys{xova ol Pw/zatot hion t^eipuxxavTo 'EXXrjvag 5e A^aiuv, tots tov 'EWrjviKov TrpoeoTTjKOTCov. 

(Pausanias Descript. lib. vii. p. 563. Lardner's Works, 4to. vol. I. p. 19.) 

" The words TaXA/wvos Ss avOvnaTsvovTos ought to be rendered, with Heumann, 
Walch, Antiqq. Corinth, p. 35., and Reichard, (as indeed is required by the context,) 
' when Gallio had been made Proconsul,' or 'on Gallio's entering on the Proconsul- 
ship.' (Kuin.) In the same sense it was also taken by Beza and Piscator; and this 



5iU PAUL. 

appeals lo be the frue one. The Jews, it seems, waited for the arrival of a new Pro- 
consul to make their request, as thinking that they should then be less likely to meet 
with a refusal." (Bloomfield's Annot. Vol. IV. p. 600.) 

" ' Then all the Greeks took Sosthenes, the chief ruler of the synagogues.' v. 17. In 
the 8th verse we read that Crispus was the chief ruler of the synagogue in Corinth. 
And from this we may suppose that there were more than one synagogue in that city, 
or that there might be more than one ruler in the same synagogue; or that Crispus, 
after his conversion to Christianity, might have been succeeded by Sosthenes; but 
then we are at a loss to know who the people are that thus beat and misused him ; 
the Greek printed copies tell us that the}' were the Gentiles; and those that read the 
text imagine, that when they perceived the neglect and disregard wherewith the pro- 
consul received the Jew 7 s, they, to insult them more, fell upon the ruler of their syna- 
gogue, whether out of hatred to them, or friendship to St. Paul, it makes no matter. 
But others think, that Sosthenes, however head of the synagogue, was nevertheless 
the friend of St. Paul, and that the. other Jews, seeing themselves slighted by Gallio, 
might vent their malice upon him ; for they suppose that this was the same Sosthe 
nes, whose name St. Paul, in the beginning of his first Epistle to the Corinthians, 
written about three years after this time, joins with his own. This opinion, howev- 
er, was not universally received, since, in the time of Eusebius, it was thought the 
Sosthenes mentioned in the epistle was one of the seventy disciples, and, consequent- 
ly, could not be the chief of the synagogue at Corinth, twenty years after the death 
of Jesus Christ." (Beausobre's AnnoF. Calmet's Comment, and Diet.) 

" xviii. 17. hiXafjoixevoi 6k ndvTss ol "EAX^vt s. There is here some variation of read- 
ing, and no little question raised as to the true one; which consequently leaves the 
interpretation unsettled. Two ancient MSS. and versions omit ol ^EWijves, and 
others read ol 'lovouloi. As to the latter reading, it cannot be tolerated ; for why 
should the Jens have beaten him'? Neither is it likely that they would have taken 
such a liberty before so solemn a tribunal. The words ol 'Efoyves are thought by 
many critics, as Grotius, Mill, Pierce, Bengel, and Kuinoel, to be derived from the 
margin, like the last. Now those were Gentiles (say the}') who beat Sosthenes; and 
hence some one wrote ol "eAAt^ej . As to the reason for the beating, it was to make 
the Jews go away the faster; and to this they were actuated partly by their hatred 
towards the Jews/arid partly by a desire to please the Procurator.' But this appears 
to be pressing too much on the word axfiXacw. which has by no means any such 
meaning. Besides, it is strange that the words "EAA^ves should have crept into near- 
ly all the MSS ; even into so many early ones. And, supposing "EAA>?v£ff to be re- 
moved, what sense is to be given to navTes 1 None (I think) satisfactory, or agree- 
able to the style of the New Testament. It must therefore be retained : and then 
the sense of irdvres will be as follows : 'all the Greeks, both Gentiles and Christians:' 
which is so evident, that I am surprised the commentators should not have seen it. 
Some explain it of the Gentiles, and others of the Gentile Christians. Both indeed 
had reason to take umbrage at the intolerance and bitter animosity of the Jews. It 
is not likely that any should have joined in the beating, merely to please the Procon- 
sul, who was not a man to be gratified by such a procedure. So that the gnomes 
brought forward by Grotius on the base assentatio of courtiers, are not here appli- 
cable. 

" By Itvittov is merely to be understood beating, or thumping him with their fists, as 
he passed along. Anything more than that, we cannot suppose they would have ven- 
tured upon, or the Proconsul have tolerated." 

" By Tov-av, (verse 17,) we may, I think, understand both the accusation brought 
forward, and the cuffs which followed ; to neither of which the Proconsul paid 
much attention; and this from disgust at the litigious conduct of the Jews; as also 
from the custom, mentioned by Pricaeus, of the Roman governors, to pass by any 
conduct which did not directly tend to degrade the dignity of the Roman name, or 
weaken its influence, in order that the yoke might be as easy as possible to the pro- 
vincials." (Bloomfield's Annot. Vol. IV. pp. 603—605.) 

His character having been thus vindicated, and his safety thus 
assured him by the supreme civil authority, Paul resided for a 
lono- time in Corinth, steadily pursuing his apostolic work, with- 
out any direct hindrance or molestation from the Jews. There 



PAUL. 541 

is no reason to suppose that he confined all his labor entirely to 
the city ; on the contrary, it is quite certain, that the numerous 
smaller gospel fields throughout the adjacent country, must have 
attracted his attention, and it appears, from the commencement of 
his second epistle to the Corinthians, that many throughout all 
Achaia had received the gospel, and had been numbered among 
the saints. Corinth, however, remained the great center of his 
operations in Greece, and from this place he soon after directed 
another epistle to one of his apostolic charges in Macedonia, — the 
church of Thessalonica. Since his former epistle had been 
received by them, there had arisen a new occasion for his 
anxious attention to their spiritual condition, and in his second 
letter he alludes distinctly to the fact that there had been mis- 
representations of his opinion, and seems to imply that a letter 
had been forged in his name, and presented to them, as contain- 
ing a new and more complete account of the exact time of the 
expected coming of Christ, to which he had only vaguely al- 
luded in the first. In the second chapter of his second epistle, 
he renews his warning against these delusions about the coming 
of Christ, alluding to the fact, that they had been deceived and 
disturbed by misstatements on this subject, and had been led into 
error, both by those who pretended to be inspired, and by those 
who attempted to show by prediction, that the coming of Christ 
was at hand, and also by the forged epistle pretending to contain 
Paul's own more decisive opinions on the subject. He exhorts 
them to " let no man deceive them by any of these means." He 
warns them moreover, against any that exalt themselves against the 
doctrines which he had taught them, and denounces all false and 
presumptuous teachers in very bitter terms. After various warnings 
against these and all disorderly persons among them, he refers to 
his own behavior while with them, as an example for them to 
follow, and reminds them how blamelessly and honestly he be- 
haved himself. He did not presume on his apostolic office, to be 
an idler, or to eat any man's bread for naught, but steadily worked 
with his own hands, lest he should be chargeable to any one of 
them ; and this he did, not because his apostolic office did not 
empower him to live without manual labor, and to depend on 
those to whom he preached for his means of subsistence, but be- 
cause he wished to make himself, and his fellow-laborers, Silas 
and Timothy, examples for their behavior after he was gone. Yet 
it seemed that, notwithstanding the pains he had taken to incul- 

69 



542 



PAUL. 



cate an honest and industrious course, several persons among 
them had assumed the office of teaching and reproving, and had 
considered themselves thereby excused from doing anything for 
their own support. In the conclusion, he refers them distinctly 
to his own signature and salutation, which authenticate every 
epistle which he writes, and without which, no letter was to be 
esteemed genuine. This he specifies, no doubt, for the sake of 
putting them on their guard against the repetition of any such 
deception as had been lately practised on them in his name. 

HIS VOYAGE BACK TO THE EAST. 

Soon after Paul had written his second epistle to the Thessa- 
lonians, he left Corinth, in the spring of A. D. 56, as it is com- 
monly calculated, and after bidding the brethren farewell, journey- 
ed back to Asia, from whose shores he had now been absent not 
less than three years. On his return journey, he was accom- 
panied by his two acquaintances and fellow-laborers, Aquilas and 
Priscilla, who were now his most intimate friends, and henceforth 
were always esteemed among the important aids of the apostolic 
enterprise. Journeying eastward across the isthmus, they came 
to Genchreae, the eastern port of Corinth, and at the head of 
the great Saronic gulf, about seven miles from the city itself. At 
this place Paul discharged himself of the obligation of a vow, 
which he had made some time before, in conformity with a com- 
mon Jewish custom of thus giving force to their own sense of 
gratitude for the accomplishment of any desired object. He had 
vowed to let his hair grow until some unknown end was attained, 
and now, having seen the prayers which sanctioned that vow 
granted, he cut oif his hair in token of the joyful completion of 
the enterprise on which he had thus solemnly and formally in- 
voked the blessing of heaven. The actual purpose of this vow is 
not recorded,— but when the occasion on which he thus exoner- 
ated himself is considered, it seems most reasonable to suppose 
that now, embarking from the shores of Europe, after he had 
there passed so many years of very peculiar labor and trials, he 
was thus celebrating the prosperous and happy achievment of his 
first great western mission, and that this vow had been made for 
his safe return, when he first sailed from the eastern coast of the 
Aegean, at Alexandria Troas. 

He sailed from Cenchreae to Ephesus, a great city of Ionic 
Asia, which had never been the scene of his apostolic labors, 
though he had traversed much of the country around it ; for it 



paul, 543 

will be remembered, that on his last, journey through Asia Minor, 
when he had passed over Galatia and Phrygia, he was about to 
enter Asia Proper, but was hindered by a special impulse of the 
Spirit, which sent him in a different direction. But having thus 
achieved his great western enterprise, there was now no longer 
any more important commission to prevent him from gratifying 
his eyes with a sight of this very interesting region, and making 
here an experimental effort to diffuse the knowledge of the gospel 
through the numerous, wealthy, refined and populous cities of this, 
the most flourishing and civilized country in the world. He did 
not intend, however, to make anything more than a mere call at 
Ephesus ; for the great object of his voyage from Europe was 
to return to Jerusalem and Syria, and give to his brethren, a 
full statement of all the interesting particulars of his long and 
remarkable mission in Macedonia and Greece. But he took oc- 
casion to vary this eastern route, so as to effect as much good as 
possible by the way ; and therefore embarked first for Ephesus, 
where he landed with Aquilas and Priscilla, whom he left there, 
while he continued on his journey, southeastwards. He stopped 
with them however, a few days, with a view to open this new 
field of labor with them ; and going into the synagogue, discoursed 
with the Jews. He was so well received by his hearers, that he 
was earnestly besought to prolong his stay among them ; but he 
excused himself for his refusal of their kind invitation, by stating 
the great object which he had in view in leaving Europe at that 
particular time : — " I must by all means keep this coming feast at 
Jerusalem ; but I will return to you, — God willing." And bidding 
them farewell, he sailed away from Ephesus to Caesarea, on the 
coast of Palestine, where he landed. Thence he went up to Je- 
rusalem, to salute the church. In this part of the history of Paul, 
Luke seems to be exceedingly brief ; perhaps because he was not 
then with him, and had never received from him any account of 
this journey. There is therefore no way of ascertaining what was 
the particular motive or design of this visit. It would appear, 
however, from the very hurried manner in which the visit was 
noticed, that it was exceedingly brief, and his departure thence 
may, as Calvin conjectures, have been hastened by the circum- 
stance, that possibly the business on which he went thither did 
not succeed according to his wishes. At any rate, there seems to 
have been something very mysterious about the whole matter, 
else there would not have been this very studied concealment of 



544 paul. 

the motives and details of a journey, which he announced to 
the brethren of the church at Ephesus, as absolutely necessary 
for him to perform. This also may have been concealed for the 
same reason, which has been conjectured to have caused the 
visit to be so short, as would seem from the manner in which 
it is noticed. From Jerusalem he went down to Antioch, by 
what route is not specified, — but probably by way of Caesarea 
and the sea. 

"xviii. 22. Caesarea. A town on the sea-coast. [See the note on p. 173.] 'AvaPug, 
'and having gone tip.' Whither'? Some commentators, as Camerar., De Dieu, 
Wolf, Calov., Heumann, Doddridge, Thalernan, Beck, and Kuinoel, refer it to 
Caesarea. But this requires the confirmation of examples. And we must take for 
granted that the city was built high above the port, (which is not likely,). or that the 
church was so situated; which would be extremely frigid. Neither is it certain that 
there was a church. Besides, how can the expression KaraPaivw be proper, as used 
of traveling from a seaport-town, like Caesarea, to Antioch 1 I therefore prefer the 
mode of interpretation adopted by some ancient and many modern commentators, 
as Beza, Grotius, Mor., Rosenmueller, Reichard, Schott, Heinrichs, and others, who 
supply $h e l£pou6\v[xa. This may indeed seem somewhat harsh ; yet it must be remem- 
bered that not a few things are so in the New Testament ; and 'avafiaiva is there 
often used absolutely of going up to Jerusalem, and *ara/3a/vu> of going from thence. 
Nor is this unexampled in the classical writers. Xenophon uses the word in the 
very same sense, of those going from Greece to the capital of Persia. See Anab. 1, 
1, 2. Hist. 2, 1. 9, 10. An. 1, 4, 12. Hist. 4, 1, 2. 1, 5, 1. 1,4,2. and many other 
passages referred to by Sturz in his Lex. Xenoph. in voce. Besides, as the w r ords 
eh 'IspoaoXvua have just preceded, it is not very harsh to repeat them. Kuinoel, in- 
deed, and some others, treat those words as not genuine; but their opinion rests on 
mere suspicion, unsupported by any proof." (Bloomf. Annot. Vol. IV. p. 607.) 

From the very brief and general manner in which the inci- 
dents of this visit of Paul to the eastern continent are commem- 
orated, the apostolic historian is left to gather nothing but the 
most naked circumstances, of the route pursued, and from the re- 
sults, it is but fair to conclude that nothing of consequence hap- 
pened to the apostle, as his duties consisted merely in a review 
and completion of the work he had gone over before. Luke evi- 
dently did not accompany Paul in this Asian journey, and he 
therefore only states the general direction of the apostle's course, 
without a single particular. He says that Paul, after making 
some some stay in Antioch, — where, no doubt he greatly comfort- 
ed the hearts of the brethren, by the glad tidings of the triumphs 
of Christ in Europe, — went in regular order over the regions of 
Galatia, and Phrygia, everywhere confirming the disciples. Be- 
yond this, no incident whatever is preserved ; yet here great 
amplification of the sacred record might be made, from the 
amusing narrative of that venerable monkish story-teller, who 
assumes the name of Abdias Babylonius. But from the speci- 
mens of his narrative already given, in the lives of Andrew and 



paul. 545 

John, the reader will easily apprehend that they contain nothing 
which deserves to be intruded into the midst of the honest, authen- 
tic statements, of the original and genuine apostolic history; and 
all these with many other similar inventions are wholly dismissed 
from the life of Paul, of whose actions such ample records have 
been left in the writings of himself and bis companions, that it is 
altogether more necessary for the biographer to condense into a 
modernized form, with proper illustrations, the materials presented 
on the authority of inspiration, than to prolong the narrative with 
tedious inventions. In this part of the apostolic history, all that 
Luke records is, that Paul, after the before-mentioned survey of 
the inland countries of Asia Minor, came down to the western 
. shore, and visited Ephesus, according to the promise which he 
he had made them at his farewell, a few months before. Since 
that hasty visit made in passing, some events important to the gos- 
pel cause had happened among them. An Alexandrine Jew named 
Apollos, a man of great Biblical learning, (as many of the Jews 
of his native city were,) and indued also with eloquence, — came 
to Ephesus, and there soon distinguished himself as a religious 
teacher. Of the doctrines of Jesus Christ and his apostles, indeed, 
he had never heard ; but he had somewhere been made acquaint- 
ed with the peculiar reforming principles of his great forerunner. 
John the Baptist, and had been baptized, probably by some one of 
his disciples. With great fervor and power, he discoursed learn- 
edly of the things of the Lord, in the synagogue at Ephesus, and 
of course, was brought under the notice of Aquilas and Priscilla, 
whom Paul had left to occupy that important field, while he was 
making his southeastern tour. They took pains to draw Apol- 
los into their acquaintance, and found him, like every truly 
learned man, very ready to learn, even from those who were his 
inferiors in most departments of sacred knowledge. From them 
he heard with great interest and satisfaction, the peculiar and 
striking truths revealed in Jesus, and at once professing his faith 
in this new revelation, went forth again among the Jews, replen- 
ished with a higher learning and a diviner spirit. After teaching 
for some time in Ephesus, he was disposed to try his new powers 
in some other field ; and proposing to journey into Achaia, his two 
Christian friends gave him letters of introduction and recom- 
mendation to the brethren of the church in Corinth. While he 
was there laboring with great efficiency in the gospel cause, Paul 
returning from his great apostolic survey of the inland and upper 



.46 



PAUL, 



regions of Asia Minor, came to Ephesus. Entering on this work of 
perfecting and uniting the results of the various irregular efforts 
made by the different persons, who had before labored there, he 
found, among those who professed to hold the doctrines of a new 
revelation, about a dozen men, who knew very little of the great 
doctrines which Paul had been in the habit of preaching. One 
of his first questions to them, of course, was whether they had 
yet received that usual convincing sign of the Christian faith, — 
the Holy Spirit. To which they answered in some surprise, that 
they had not yet heard that there was any Holy Spirit ; — thus 
evidently showing that they knew nothing about any such sign 
or its effects. Paul, in his turn considerably surprised, at this re- 
markable ignorance of a matter of such high importance, was 
naturally led to ask what kind of initiation they had received 
into the new dispensation ; and learning from them, that they had 
only been baptized according to the baptism of John, — instantly 
assured them of the incompleteness of that revelation of the truth. 
" John truly baptized with the baptism of repentance, telling the 
people that they must believe on him that should come after him, — 
— that is on Christ Jesus." Hearing this, they consented to re- 
ceive from the apostle of Jesus, the renewal of the sign of faith, 
which they had formerly known as the token of that partial re- 
velation made by John ; and they were therefore baptized in the 
name of the Lord Jesus, — a form of words which of course had 
never been pronounced over them before. Paul, then la3^ing his 
hands on them, invoked the influence of the Holy Spirit, which 
was then immediately manifested, by the usual miraculous gifts 
which accompanied its effusion. 

" xviii. 24. Apollos. A name contracted from Apollonius, (which is read in the 
Cod. Cant.) as Epaphras from Epaphroditus, and Artemas from Artemonius. Of 
this Apollonius, mention is also made in 1 Cor. i. 12. iii. 5 seq. where Paul speaks of 
the labor he underwent in the instruction of the Corinthians. (1 Cor. iv. 6. xvi. 12.) 
Yhti, by birth, i. e. country; as in 18, 2. The Jews of Alexandria were eminent for 
Biblical knowledge. That most celebrated city of Egypt abounded with men of 
learning, both Jews and Gentiles." Kuin. (Bloomfield's Annot. Vol. IV. p. 608.) 

" The Baptism of John is put, by synecdoche, for the whole of John's ordinances. 
See the note on Matt. xxi. 25. (Kuin.) It is generally supposed that he had been 
baptized by John himself : but this must have been twenty years before ; and it is 
not probable that during that time he should have acquired no knowledge of Chris- 
tianity. It should rather seem that he had been baptized by one of John's disci- 
ples; and perhaps not very long before the time here spoken of." (Bloomfield's 
Annot. Vol. IV. p. 610.) 

" With respect to the letters here mentioned, they were written for the purpose of 
encouraging Apollos, and recommending him to the brethren. This ancient eccle- 
siastical custom of writing letters of recommendation, (which seems to have origin- 
ated in the necessary caution to be observed in times of persecution, and arose out of 
the interrupted and tardy intercourse which, owing to their great distance from each 



paul. 547 

other, subsisted between the Christians,) has been well illustrated by a tract of Fer- 
rarius de Epistolis Ecclesiasticis, referred to by Wolf." (Bloomfield. Vol. IV. p. 611.) 
"Ephesus was the metropolis of proconsular Asia. It was situated at the mouth 
of the river Cay ster, on the shore of the Aegean sea, in that part anciently called 
Ionia, (but now Natolir,) and was particularly celebrated for the temple of Diana, 
which had been erected at the common expense of the inhabitants of Asia Proper, 
and was reputed one of the seven wonders of the world. In the time of Paul, 
this city abounded with orators and philosophers ; and its inhabitants, in their gentile 
state, were celebrated for their idolatry and skill in magic, as well as for their luxury 
and lasciviousness. Ephesus is now under the dominion of the Turks, and is in a 
state of almost total ruin, being reduced to fifteen poor cottages, (not erected exactly 
on its original site,) and its once flourishing church is now diminished to three illit- 
erate Greeks. (Rev. ii. 6.) In the time of the Romans, Ephesus was the metropolis of 
Asia. The temple of Diana is said to have been four hundred and twenty-five feet 
long, two hundred and twenty broad, and to have been supported by one hundred 
and twenty-seven pillars of marble, seventy feet high, whereof twenty-seven were 
most beautifully wrought, and all the rest polished. One Clesiphon, a famous archi- 
tect, planned it, and with so much art and curiosity, that it took two hundred years 
to finish it. It was set on fire seven times ; once on the very same day that Socrates 
was poisoned, four hundred years before Christ." (Home's Introd. Whitby's Ta- 
ble. Wells's Geog. Williams on Pearson.) 

After this successful effort to confirm and complete the conver- 
sions already effected, Paul went about his apostolic labors in the 
usual way,— going into the synagogue, and speaking boldly, dis- 
puting the antiquated sophistry of the Jews, and urging upon all, 
the doctrines of the new revelation. In this department of labor, 
he continued for the space of three months ; but at the end of that 
time, he found that many obstacles were thrown in the way of the 
truth by the stubborn adherents of the established forms of old 
Judaism, who would not allow that the lowly Jesus was the Mes- 
siah for whom their nation had so long looked as the restorer of 
Israel. Leaving the hardened and obstinate Jews, he therefore, 
according to his old custom in such cases of the rejection of the 
gospel by them, withdrew from their society, and thenceforth went 
with those who had believed among the more candid Greeks, who, 
with a truly enlightened and philosophical spirit, held their minds 
open to the reception of new truths, even though they might not 
happen to accord with those which were sanctioned to them by 
the prejudices of education. After leaving the synagogue, his new 
place of preaching and religious instruction was the school of one 
Tyrannus, — doubtless one of those philosophical institutions with 
which every Grecian city abounded. This continued his field 
of exertion for two years, during which his fame became very 
widely established,— all the inhabitants of Ionic and Aeolic Asia, 
having heard of the word of the Lord Jesus, both Jews and 
Greeks. Among the causes and effects of this general notoriety, 
was the circumstance, that many miraculous cures were wrought 
by the hands of Paul ; and many began even to attach a divine 



04o PAUL. 

regard to his person; — handkerchiefs being brought to the sick 
from his body, which, on application to those afflicted, either with 
bodily or mental diseases, produced a perfect cure. This matter 
becoming generally known and talked of, throughout Ephesus, 
became the occasion of a ludicrous accident, which occurred to 
some persons who entertained the mistaken notion, that this fac- 
ulty of curing diseases was transferable, and might be exercised 
by anybody that had enterprise enough to take the business in 
hand, and say over the form of words that seemed to be so effica- 
cious in the mouth of Paul. A set of conjurers of Jewish origin, 
the seven sons of Sceva, who went about professedly following 
the trade of casting out devils, straightway- caught up this new 
improvement on their old tricks, (for so they esteemed the divine- 
ly miraculous power of the apostle,) and soon found an opportuni- 
ty to experiment with this, which they considered a valuable addi- 
tion to their old stock of impositions. So, calling over the miser- 
able possessed subject of their foolish experiment, they said — " We 
exorcise you by Jesus, whom Paul preaches." But the devil was 
not slow to perceive the difference between this second-hand, pla- 
giaristic mode of operation, and the commanding tone of divine 
authority with which the demoniacal possessions were treated by 
the apostle of Jesus. He therefore quite turned their borrowed 
mummery into a jest^ and cried out through the mouth of the 
possessed man,—" Jesus I know, and Paul I know : — but who are 
ye?" Under the impulse of the frolicsome, mischievous spirit, 
the man upon whom they were playing their conjuring tricks, 
jumped up at once, and fell upon these rash doctors with all his 
might, and with all the energy of a truly crazy demoniac, beat the 
whole seven, tore their clothes off from them, and threshed them 
to such effect, that they were glad to stop their mummery, and 
make off as fast as possible, but did not escape till they were na- 
ked and wounded. The affair of course, was soon very general- 
ly talked of, and the story made an impression, on the whole, de- 
cidedly favorable to the true source of that miraculous agency, 
which, when foolishly tampered with, had produced such appal- 
ling results. Many, among both Jews and Greeks, were thereby 
led to repentance and faith, and more particularly those who had 
been in the way of practising these arts of imposition. A very 
general alarm prevailed among all the conjurers, and many came 
and confessed the mean tricks by which they had hitherto main- 
tained their reputation as controllers of the powers of the invisible 



paul. 549 

world. Many who had also, at great expense of time and money, 
acquired the arts of imposition, brought the costly books in which 
were contained all the mysterious details of their magical mum- 
mery, and burned them publicly, without regard to their immense 
estimated pecuniary value, which was not less than nine thou- 
sand dollars. In short, the results of this apparently trifling oc- 
currence, followed up by the zealous preaching of Paul, effected 
a vast amount of good, so that the word of God mightily grew and 
prevailed. 

" In Acts xx, 31, the apostle says, that for the space of three years he preached at 
Ephesus. Grotius and Whitby hold that these three years are to be reckoned from, 
his first coming to Ephesus, xviii. 19 ; that he does not specify his being in any other 
city; and that when it is said here, ' So that all Asia heard the word,' xix. 40, it arose 
from the concourse that, on a religious account, continually assembled in that city. 
The Jews also, from different parts of Asia, were induced by commerce, or obliged 
by the courts of judicature, to frequent it. Other commentators contend that, as only 
two years, with three months in the synagogue, are here mentioned, the remaining 
three-quarters of a year were partly engaged in a progress through the neighboring- 
provinces. (Elsley, from Lightfoot and Doddridge.) 

" While he was at Ephesus, 'God wrought special miracles by the hands of Paul; 
so that from his body were brought unto the sick, handkerchiefs or aprons,' &c. &e. 
Acts xix. v. 11, 12. ZinucfaQiov, aprons, is slightly changed from the Latin semicinctum, 
which workmen put before them when employed at their occupations, to keep their 
clothes from soiling. The difference which' Theophylaet and Oecumenius make 
between these and .a«5apto, is, that the latter are applied to the head, as a cap or veil, 
and the former to the hands as a handkerchief. 'They carry them,' says Oecume- 
nius, c in their hands, to wipe off moisture from their face, as tears,'" &c. &c. (Cal- 
met's Comment.) 

*"And they counted the price of them, [the books,] and found it to be fifty thou- 
sand pieces of silver,' v. 19 — apyvpiov is used generally in the Old Testament, LXX. 
for the shekel, in value about 2s. 6d., or the total 6250Z. as Num. vii. 85. Deut. xxii. 
19. 2 Kings xv. 20. Grotius. If it means the drachma, as more frequently used by 
the Greeks aX9d. each, the sum will be 1875Z." [$900Q.J Doddridge. Elsley's Annot. 
(Williams on Pearson, pp. 53 — 55.) 

THE EPISTLE TO THE GALATIANS. 

There is hardly one of the writings of Paul, about the date 
of which there has been so much discussion, or so many opinions 
as this ; but the results of all the elaborate investigations and ar- 
gumentations of the learned, still leave this interesting chronolo- 
gical point in such doubt, that this must be pronounced about 
the most uncertain in date, of all the Pauline epistles. It may 
however, without any inconsistency with the historical narrative 
of the Acts, or with any passages in the other epistles, be safely 
referred to the period of this residence in Ephesus, probably to the 
later part of it. The epistle itself contains no reference whatever, 
direct or indirect, to the place in which he was occupied at the 
time of writing, and only bare probabilities can therefore be stated 
on it, — nor can any decisive objection be made to any one of six 
opinions which have been strongly urged. Some pronounce it 

70 



550 PAUL, 

very decidedly to have been the first of all the epistles written by 
Paul, and maintain that he wrote it soon after his first visit to 
them, at some time daring the interval between Paul's departure 
from Galatia, and his departure from Thessalonica. Others date 
it at the time of his imprisonment in Rome, according to the com- 
mon subscription of the epistle. Against this last may, however, 
perhaps be urged his reproof to the Galatians, that they " were 
so soon removed from him that called them to the grace of Christ," 
— an expression nevertheless, too vague to form any certain basis 
for a chronological conclusion. The great majority of critics re- 
fer it to the period of his stay in Ephesus, — a view which entirely 
accords with the idea, that it must have been written soon after 
Paul had preached to them ; for on his last journey to Ephesus, 
he had passed through Galatia, as already narrated, confirming 
the churches. Some time had, no doubt, intervened since his 
preaching to them, sufficient at least to allow many heresies and 
difficulties to arise among them, and to pervert them from the pu- 
rity of the truth, as taught to them by him. Certain false teach- 
ers had been among them since his departure, inculcating on all 
believers in Christ, the absolute necessity of a minute and rigid 
observance of Mosaic forms, for their salvation. They also di- 
rectly attacked the apostolical character and authority of Paul, — 
declaring his opinion to be of no weight whatever, and to be op- 
posed to that of the true original apostles of Jesus. These, Paul 
meets with great force in the very beginning of the epistle, enter- 
ing at once into a particular account of the mode of his first en- 
tering the apostleship, — showing that it was not derived from the 
other apostles, but from the special commission of Christ himself, 
miraculously given. He also shows that he had, on this very 
question of Judaical rituals, conferred with the apostles at Jerusa- 
lem, and had received the sanction of their approbation in that 
course of open communion which he had before followed, on his 
own inspired authority, and had ever since maintained, in the face 
of what he deemed inconsistencies in the conduct of Peter. He 
then attacks the Galatians themselves, in very violent terms, for 
their perversion of that glorious freedom into which he had brought 
the Christian doctrine, and fills up the greater part of the epistle 
with reproofs of these errors. 

His argument against the doctrines of the servile Judaizers is 
made up in his favorite mode of demonstration, by simile and 
metaphor, representing the Christian system under the form of 



PAUL. 551 

the offspring of Abraham, and afterwards images the freedom of 
the true believers in Jesus, in the exalted privilege of the des- 
cendants of Sara, while those enslaved to forms are presented 
as analogous in their condition to the children of Hagar. He 
earnestly exhorts therm therefore, to stand fast in the freedom to 
which Christ has exalted them, and most emphatically condemns 
all observance of circumcision. Thus pointing out to them, the 
purely spiritual nature of that covenant, of which they were now 
the favored subjects, he urges them to a truly spiritual course of 
life, bidding them aim at the attainment of a perfect moral char- 
acter, and makes the conclusion of the epistle eminently practical 
in its direction. He speaks of this epistle as being a testimony 
of the very particular interest which he feels in their spiritual 
prosperity, because, (what appears contrary to his practice,) he has 
written it with his own hand. To the very last, he is very bitter 
against those who are aiming to bring them back to the obser- 
vance of circumcision, and denounces those as actuated only by 
a base desire to avoid that persecution which they might expect 
from the Jews, if they should reject the Mosaic ritual. Referring 
to the cross of Christ as his only glory, he movingly alludes to 
the marks of his conformity to that standard, bearing as he* does 
in his own body, the scars of the wounds received from the 
scourges of his Philippian persecutors. He closes without any 
mention of personal salutations, and throughout the whole makes 
none of those specifications of names, with which most of his 
other epistles abound. In the opening salutation, he merely in- 
cludes with himself those " brethren that are with him," which 
seems to imply that they knew who those brethren were, in some 
other way, — perhaps, because he had but lately been among them 
with those same persons as his assistants in the ministry. 

On this very doubtful point, I have taken the views" adopted by Witsius, Louis 
Cappel, Pearson, Wall, Hug and Hemsen. The notion that it was written at Rome 
is supported by Theodoret, Lightfoot, and Paley, — of course making it a late epis- 
tle. On the contrary, Michaelis makes it the earliest of all, and dates it in the year 
49, at some place on Paul's route from. Troas to Thessalonica. Marcion and Ter- 
tullian also supposed it to be one of the earliest epistles. Benson thinks it was writ- 
ten during Paul's first residence in Corinth. Lenfant and Beausobre, followed by 
Lardner, conjecture it to have been written either at Corinth or at Ephesus, during 
his first visit, either in A. D. 52, or 53. Fabricius and Mill date it A. D. 58, at some 
place on Paul's route to Jerusalem. Chrysostom and Theophylact, date it before 
the epistle to the Romans. Grotius thinks it was written about the same time. From 
all which, the reader will see the justice of my conclusion, that nothing at all is 
known with any certainty about the matter. 

THE EPHESIAN MOB. 

Paul having now been a resident in Ephesus for nearly three 



552 paul. 

years, and having seen such glorious results of his labors, soon 
began to think of revisiting some of his former fields of mission- 
ary exertion, more especially those Grecian cities of Europe which 
had been such eventful scenes to him, but a few years previous. 
He designed to go over Macedonia and Achaia, and then to visit 
Jerusalem ; and when communicating these plans to his friends 
at Ephesus, he remarked to them in conclusion — "And after that, 
I must also visit Rome." He therefore sent before him into Ma- 
cedonia, as the heralds of his approach, his former assistant, Tim- 
othy, and another helper not before mentioned, Erastus, who is 
afterwards mentioned as the treasurer of the city of Corinth. 
But Paul himself still waited in Asia for a short time, until some 
other preliminaries should be arranged for his removal. During' 
this incidental delay arose the most terrible commotion that had 
ever yet been excited against him, and one which very nearly cost 
him his life. 

It should be noticed that the conversion of so large a num- 
ber of the heathen, through the preaching of Paul, had struck di- 
rectly at the foundation of a very thriving business carried on in 
Ephesus. and connected with the continued prevalence and gene- 
ral popularity of that idolatrous worship, for which the city was 
so famous. Ephesus, as is well known, was the chief seat of 
the peculiar worship of that great Asian deity, who is now known, 
throughout all the world, where the apostolic history is read, by the 
name of " Diana op the Ephesians." It is perfectly certain, 
however, that this deity had no real connection, either in character 
or in name, with that Roman goddess of the chase and of chastity, 
to whom the name Diana properly belongs. The true classic god- 
dess Diana was a virgin, according to common stories, considered 
as the sister of Apollo, and was worshiped as the beautiful and 
youthful goddess of the chase, and of that virgin purity of 
which she was supposed to be an instance, though some stories 
present an exception to this part of her character. Upon her 
head, in most representations of her, was pictured a crescent, 
which was commonly supposed to show, that she was also the 
goddess of the moon ; but a far more sagacious and rational sup- 
position refers the first origin of this sign to a deeper meaning. 
But when the mythologies of different nations began to be com- 
pared and united, she w^as identified with the goddess of the 
moon, and with that Asian goddess who bore among the Greeks 
the name of Artemis, which is in fact the name ^iven by 



paul, 658 

Luke, as the title of the great goddess of the Ephesians. This 
Artemis, however, was a deity as diverse in form, character and 
attributes, from the classic Diana, as from any goddess in all the 
systems of ancient mythology ; and they never need have been 
confounded, but for the perverse folly of those who were bent, m 
spite of all reason, to rind in the divinities of the eastern poly- 
theism, the perfect synonyms to the objects of western idolatry. 
The Asian and Ephesian goddess Artemis, had nothing whatever 
to do with hunting nor with chastity. She was not represented 
as young', nor beautiful, nor nimble, nor as the sister of Apollo, 
but as a vast gigantic monster, with a crown of towers, with lions 
crouching upon her shoulders, and a great array of pictured or 
sculptured eagles and tigers over her whole figure ; and her 
figure was also strangely marked by a multitude of breasts in 
front. Under this monstrous figure, which evidently was no in- 
vention of the tasteful Greeks, but had originated in the debasing 
and grotesque idolatry of the orientals, Artemis of the Ephe- 
sians was worshiped as the goddess of the earth, of fertility, of 
cities, and as the universal principle of life and wealth. She was 
known among the Syrians by the name of Ashtaroth, and was 
among the early objects of Hebrew idolatry. When the Romans, 
in their all-absorbing tolerance of idolatry, began to introduce 
into Italy the worship of the eastern deities, this goddess was also 
added there, but not under the name of Diana. The classic scho- 
lar is familiar with the allusions to this deity, worshiped under the 
name of Cybele, Tellus and other such, and in all the later poets 
of Rome, she is a familiar object, as " the tower-crowned Cybele." 
This was the goddess worshiped in many of the Grecian cities of 
Asia Minor, which, at their first colonization, had adopted this 
aboriginal goddess of those fertile regions, of whose fertility, civ- 
ilization, agricultural and commercial wealth, she seemed the fit 
and appropriate personification. But in none of these Asian 
cities was she worshiped with such peculiar honors and glories as 
in Ephesus, the greatest city of Asia Minor. Here was worshiped 
a much cherished image of her, which was said to have fallen from 
heaven, called from that circumstance the Diopetos ; which 
here was kept in that most splendid temple, which is even now 
proverbial as having been one of the wonders of the ancient world. 
Being thus the most famous seat of her worship, Ephesus also 
became the center of a great manufacture and trade in certain 
curious little images or shrines, representing this goddess, which 



554 !*AtJL. 

were in great request, wherever her worship was regarded, being 
considered as the genuine and legitimate representatives, as well as 
representations of the Ephesian deity. 

This explanation will account for the circumstances related by 
Luke, as ensuing in Ephesus, on the success of Paul's labors 
among the heathen, to whose conversion his exertions had been 
wholly devoted during the two last years of his stay in Ephesus, 
In converting the Ephesians from heathenism, he was guilty of 
no ordinary crime. He directly attacked a great source of profit 
to a large number of artizans in the city, who derived their whole 
support from the manufacture of those little objects of idolatry, 
which, of course, became of no value to those who believed Paul's 
doctrine, — that " those were no gods which were made with hands." 
This new doctrine therefore, attracted very invidious notice from 
those who thus found their dearest interests very immediately and 
unfortunately affected, by the progress made by its preacher in turn- 
ing away the hearts of Ephesians from their ancient reverence 
for the shrines of Artemis ; and they therefore listened with great 
readiness to Demetrius, one of their number, when he proposed to 
remedy the difficulty. He showed them in a very clear, though 
brief address, that "the craft was in danger," — that warning cry 
which so often bestirs the bigoted in defence of the object of their 
regard ; and after hearing his artful address, they all, full of wrath, 
with one accord raised a great outcry, in the usual form of com- 
mendation of the established idolatry of their city, — " Great is Ar- 
temis of the Ephesians !" This noise being heard by others, and 
of course attracting attention, every one who distinguished the 
words, by a sort of patriotic impulse, was driven to join in the 
cry, and presently the whole city was in an uproar ;— a most de- 
sirable condition of things, of course, for those who wished to de- 
rive advantage from a popular commotion. All bawling this 
senseless cry, with about as much idea of the occasion of the dis- 
turbance as could be expected from such a mob, the huddling 
multitudes learning the general fact, that the grand object of the 
tumult was to do some mischief to the Christians, and looking 
about for some proper person to be made the subject of public 
opinion, fell upon Gaius and Aristarchus of Macedonia, two trav- 
eling companions of Paul, who happened to be in the way, and 
dragged them to the theater, whither the whole mob rushed at 
once, as to a desirable scene for any act of confusion and folly 
which they might choose to commit. Paul, with a lion-like spirit, 



PAUL. OOO 

caring naught for the mob, proposed to go in and make a speech 
to them, but his friends, with far more prudence and cool sense 
than he, — knowing that an assembly of the people, roaring some 
popular outcry, is no more a subject of reason than so many ra- 
ging wild beasts, — prevented him from going into the theater, 
where he would no doubt have been torn to pieces, before he 
could have opened his mouth. Some of the great magistrates of 
Asia, too, who were friendly to him, hearing of his rash intentions, 
sent to him a very urgent request, that he would not venture him- 
self among the mob. Meanwhile the outcry continued, — the the- 
ater being crowded full, — and the whole city constantly pouring 
out to see what was the matter, and every soul joining "in the re- 
ligious and patriotic shout, " Great is Artemis of the Ephesians !" 
And so they went on, every one, of course, according to the uni- 
versal and everlasting practice on such occasions, making all the 
noise he could, but not one, except the rascally silversmiths, know- 
ing what upon earth they were all bawling there for. Still this 
ignorance of the object of the assembly kept nobody still ; but all, 
with undiminished fervor, kept plying their lungs to swell the 
general roar. As it is described in the very graphic and pictu- 
resque language of Luke, — " Some cried one thing, and some, an- 
other ; for the whole assembly was confused ; — and the more knew 
not wherefore they were come together," — which last circum- 
stance is a very common difficulty in such assemblies, in all 
ages. At last, searching for some other persons as proper subjects 
to exercise their religious zeal upon, they looked about upon the 
Jews, who were always a suspected class among the heathen, and 
seized one Alexander, who seems to have been one of the Chris- 
tian converts, for the Jews thrust him forward as a kind of scape- 
goat for themselves. Alexander made the usual signs soliciting 
their attention to his words ; but as soon as the people understood 
that he was a Jew, they all drowned his voice with the general cry, 
" Great is Artemis of the Ephesians !" and this they kept up stead- 
ily for two whole hours, as it were with one voice. Matters hav- 
ing come to this pass, the recorder of the city came forward, and 
having hushed the people, — who had some reverence for the law- 
ful authorities, that fortunately were not responsible to them, — 
and made them a very sensible speech, reminding them that since 
no one doubted the reverence of the Ephesians for the goddess 
Artemis, and for the Diopetos, there surely was no occasion for 
all this disturbance to demonstrate a fact that every body knew. 



556 paul. 

He told them that the men against whom they were raising this 
disturbance had neither robbed their temples nor blasphemed the 
goddess ; so that if Demetrius and his fellow-craft had anything 
justly against these men, as having injured their business, they 
had their proper remedy at law. He hinted to them also that 
they were all liable to be called to account for this manifest breach 
of Roman law, and this defiance of the majesty of the Roman gov- 
ernment ; — a hint which brought most of them to their senses ; 
for all who had anything to lose, dreaded the thought of giving 
occasion to the awfully remorseless government of the province, 
to fine them, as they certainly would be glad to do on any valid 
excuse. They all dispersed, therefore, with no more words. 

" ' Silver shrines,'' ver. 24. The heathens used to carry the images of their gods in 
procession from one city to another. This was done in a chariot which was solemn- 
ly consecrated for that emp^ment, and by the Romans styled Thensa, that is, the 
chariot of their gods. But besides this, it was placed in a box or shrine, called Fer- 
culum. Accordingly, when the Romans conferred divine honors on their great men, 
alive or dead, they had the Circen games, and in them the Thensa and Ferculum, 
the chariot and the shrine, bestowed on them ; as it is related of Julius Caesar. 
This Ferculum among the Romans did not differ much from the Graecian Naos, a 
little chapel, representing the form of a temple, with an image in it, which, being set 
upon an altar, or any other solemn place, having the doors opened, the image was 
seen by the spectators either in a standing or sitting posture. An old anon}-mous 
scholiast upon Aristotle's Rhetoric, lib. i. c. 15, has these words: Naoiroiol ol tovs vaois 
■rroiovac-trJTOi zlKOvoardaia, riva fxiKpa %<>\iva. a irwXSui, observing the vaoi here to be tiKovoa- 
Tdoia, chaplets, with images in them, of wood, or metal, (as here of silver,) which they 
made and sold, as in v. 25, they are supposed to do. Athenaeus speaks of the kciIiokos, 
1 which,' says he ' is a vessel wherein they place their images of Jupiter.' The 
learned Casaubon states, that ' these images were put in cases, which were made like 
chapels. (Deipnos. lib. ii. p. 500.) So St. Chrysostom likens them to 'little cases, or 
shrines.' Dion says of the Roman ensign, that it was a little temple, and in it a gol- 
den eagle. (Pw/zcuk, lib. 40.) And in another place : ' There was a little chapel of 
Juno, set upon a table. lb. lib. 39. This is the meaning of the tabernacle of Moloch, 
Acts vii. 43, where by the oktivt), tabernacle, is meant the chaplet, a shrine of that false 
god. The same was also the niJ2 H13D the tabernacle of Benoth, or Venus." Ham- 
mond's Annot. [Williams on Pearson, p. 55.] 

Robbers of temples. — Think of the miserable absurdity of the common English 
translation in this passage, (Acts xix. 37,) where the original hpoav\oi is expressed by 
"robbers of churches!" Now who ever thought of applying the English word 
" church," to anything whatever but a " Christian assembly," or " Christian place of 
assembly 1" Why then is this phrase put in the mouth of a heathen officer address- 
ing a heathen assembly about persons charged with violating the sanctity of heathen 
places of worship I Such a building as a church, (zKKkr]<na, ecclesia) devoted to the wor- 
ship of the true God, was not known till more than a century after this time; and 
the Greek word 'upov, (hieron,) which enters into the composition of the word in the 
sacred text, thus mistranslated, was never applied to a Christian place of worship. 

FIRST EPISTLE TO THE CORINTHIANS. 

Paul's residence in Ephesus is distinguished in his literary 
history, as the period in which he wrote that most eloquent and 
animated of his epistles, — " the first to the Corinthians." It was 
written towards the close of his stay in Asia, about the time of 
the passover; according to established calculations, therefore, in 



paul. 557 

the spring of the year of Christ 57. The more immediate occa- 
sion of his writing to the Corinthian Christians, was a letter 
which he had received from, them, by the hands of Stephanas, 
Fortunatus and Achaicus. Paul had previously written to them 
an epistle, (now lost,) in which he gave them some directions 
about their deportment, which they did not fully understand, 
and of which they desired an explanation in their letter. Many of 
these questions, which this epistle of the Corinthians contained, 
are given by Paul, in connection with his own answers to them j 
and from this source it is learned that they concerned several 
points of expediency and propriety about matrimony. These are 
answered by Paul, very distinctly and fully ; but much of his 
epistle is taken up with instructions and reproofs on many points 
not referred to in their inquiries. The Corinthian church was 
made up of two very opposite constituent parts, so unlike in their 
character, as to render exceedingly complicated the difficulties of 
bringing all under one system of faith and practice ; and the 
apostolic founder was, at one time, obliged to combat heathen licen- 
tiousness, and at another, Jewish bigotry and formalism. The 
church also, having been too soon left without the presence of a 
fully competent head, had been very loosely filled up with a great 
variety of improper persons, — some hypocrites, and some profli- 
gates, — a difficulty not altogether peculiar to the Corinthian 
church, nor to those of the apostolic age. But there were cer- 
tainly some very extraordinary irregularities in the conduct of 
their members, some of whom w T ere in the habit of getting ab- 
solutely drunk at the sacramental table ; and others were guilty 
of great sins in respect to general purity of life. Another pecu- 
liar difficulty, which had arisen in the church of Corinth, during 
Paul's absence, was the formation of sects and parties, each claim- 
ing some one of the great Christian teachers as its head ; some of 
them claiming Paul as their only apostolic authority ; some again 
preferring the doctrines of Apollos, who had been laboring among 
them while Paul was in Ephesus ; and others again, referred to 
Peter as the true apostolic chief, while they wholly denied to Paul 
any authority whatever, as an apostle. There had, indeed, arisen 
a separate party, strongly opposed to Paul, headed by a prominent 
person, who had done a great deal to pervert the truth, and to 
lessen the character of Paul in various ways, which are alluded 
to by Paul in many passages of his epistle, in a very indignant 
tone. Other difficulties are described by him, and various excesses 

71 



558 



PAUL. 



are reproved, as a scandal to the Christian character ; such as an 
incestuous marriage among their members, — lawsuits before hea- 
then magistrates, — dissolute conformity to the licentious worship 
of the Corinthian goddess, whose temple was so infamous for its 
scandalous rites and thousand priestesses. Some of the Corin- 
thian Christians had been in the habit of visiting this and other 
heathen temples, and of participating in the scenes of feasting, 
riot and debauchery, which were carried on there as a part of the 
regular forms of idolatrous worship. 

The public worship of the Corinthian church had been dis- 
turbed also by various irregularities which Paul reprehends ; — 
the abuse of the gift of tongues, and the affectation of an unu- 
sual dress in preaching, both by men and women. In the con- 
clusion of his epistle he expatiates too, at great length, on the 
doctrine of the resurrection of the body, vehemently arguing 
against some Corinthian heretics, who had denied any but a spir- 
itual existence beyond the grave. This argument may justly be 
pronounced the best specimen of Paul's very peculiar style, rea- 
soning as he does, with a kind of passion, and interrupting the 
regular series of logical demonstrations, by fiery bursts of enthu • 
siasm, personal appeals, poetical quotations, illustrative similes, 
violent denunciations of error, and striking references to his own 
circumstances. All these nevertheless, point very directly and con- 
nectedly at the great object of the argument, and the whole train of 
reasoning swells and mounts, towards the conclusion, in a manner 
most remarkably effective, constituting one of the most sublime 
argumentative passages ever written. He then closes the epistle 
with some directions about the mode of collecting the contribu- 
tions for the brethren in Jerusalem. He promises to visit them, 
and make a long stay among them, when he goes on his jour- 
ney through Macedonia, — a route which, he assures them, he had 
now determined to take, as mentioned by Luke, in his account of 
the preliminary mission of Timothy and Erastus, before the 
time of the mob at Ephesus ; but should not leave Ephesus until 
after Pentecost, because a great and effectual door was there open- 
ed to him, and there were many opposers. He speaks of Timo- 
thy as being then on the mission before mentioned, and exhorts 
them not to despise this young brother, if he should visit them, as 
they might expect. After several other personal references, he 
signs his ownn, ame with a general salutation ; and from the terms, 
in which he expresses this particular mark already alluded to 



paul. 559 

in the second epistle to the Thessalonians, it is very reasonable 
to conclude, that he was not his own penman in any of these 
epistles, but used an amanuensis, authenticating the whole by his 
signature, with his own hand, only at the end ; and this opin- 
ion of his method of carrying on his correspondence, is now 
commonly, perhaps universally, adopted by the learned. 

" Chap. xvi. 10, 11. ' Now, if Timotheus come, see that he may be with you with- 
out fear; for he worketh the work of the Lord, as I also do: let no man therefore 
despise him, but conduct him forth in peace, that he may come unto me, for I look 
for him with the brethren.' 

"From the passage considered in the preceding number, it appears that Timothy 
was sent to Corinth, either with the epistle, or before it : ' for this cause have I sent 
unto you Timotheus.' From the passage now quoted, we infer that Timothy was 
not sent with the epistle; for had he been the bearer of the letter, or accompanied it, 
would St. Paul in that letter have said, ' if Timothy come V Nor is the sequel con- 
sistent with the supposition of his carrying the letter; for if Timothy was with the 
apostle when he wrote the letter, could he say, as he does, ' I look for him with the 
brethren V I conclude, therefore, that Timothy had left St. Paul to proceed upon his 
journey before the letter was written. Farther, the passage before us seems to im- 
ply, that Timothy was not expected by St. Paul to arrive at Corinth, till after they 
had received the letter. He gives them directions in the letter how to treat him 
when he should arrive : ' if he come,' act towards him so and so. Lastly, the whole 
form of expression is more naturally applicable to the supposition of Timothy's 
coming to Corinth, not directly from St. Paul, but from some other quarter ; and that 
his instructions had been, when he should reach Corinth, to return. Now, how 
stands this matter in the history 1 Turn to the nineteenth chapter and twenty-first 
verse of the Acts, and you will find that Timothy did not, when sent from Ephesus, 
where he left St. Paul, and where the present epistle was written, proceed by a 
straight course to Corinth, but that he went round through Macedonia. This clears 
up everything; for, although Timothy was sent forth upon his journey before the 
letter was written, yet he might not reach Corinth till after the letter arrived there; 
and he would come to Corinth, when he did come, not directly from St. Paul, at 
Ephesus, but from some part of Macedonia. Here therefore is a circumstantial and 
critical agreement, and unquestionably without design; for neither of the two pas- 
sages in the epistle mentions Timothy's journey into Macedonia at all, though no- 
thing but a circuit of that kind can explain and reconcile the expressions which the 
writer uses." (Paley's Hor. Paul. 1 Cor. No. IV.) 
' " Chap. v. 7, 8. ' For even Christ, our passover, is sacrificed for us; therefore let 
us keep the feast, not with old leaven, neither with the leaven of malice and wicked- 
ness, but with the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth.' 

" Dr. Benson tells us, that from this passage, compared with chapter xvi. 8, it has 
been conjectured that this epistle was written about the time of the Jewish passover; 
and to me the conjecture appears to be very well founded. The passage to which 
Dr. Benson refers us, is this : ' I will tarry at Ephesus until Peniecost.' With this 
passage he ought to have joined another in the same context: ' And if may be that I 
will abide, yea, and winter with you :' for, from the two passages laid together, it fol- 
lows that the epistle was written before Pentecost, yet after winter; which necessari- 
ly determines the date to the part of the year, within which the passover falls. It 
was written before Pentecost, because he says, ' I will tarry at Ephesus until Pente- 
cost. 1 It was written after winter, because he tells them, ' It may be that I may abide, 
yea, and winter with you.' The winter which the apostle purposed to pass at Cor- 
inth, was undoubtedly' the winter next ensuing to the date of the epistle; yet it was a 
winter subsequent to the ensuing Pentecost, because he did not intend to set forwards 
upon his journey till after the feast. The words, ' let us keep the feast, not with old 
leaven, neither with the leaven of malice and wickedness, but with the unleavened 
bread of sincerity and truth,' look very much like words suggested by the season ; at 
least they have, upon that supposition, a force and significancy which do not belong- 
to them upon any other ; and it is not a little remarkable, that the hints casually 
dropped in the epistle, concerning particular parts of the year, should coincide with 
this supposition." (Paley's Hor. Paul. 1 Cor. No. XII.) " 



560 PAUL. 

SECOND VOYAGE TO EUROPE. 

After the disturbances connected with the mob raised by De- 
metrius had wholly ceased, and public attention was no longer 
directed to the motions of the preachers of the Christian doctrine, 
Paul determined to execute the plan, which he had for some time 
contemplated, of going over his European fields of labor again, 
according to his universal and established custom of revisiting 
and confirming his work, within a moderately brief period after 
first opening the ground for evangelization. Assembling the dis- 
ciples about him, he bade them farewell, and turning northward, 
came to Troas, whence, six or seven years before, he had set out 
on his first voyage to Macedonia. The plan of his journey, as he 
first arranged it, had been to sail from the shores of Asia Minor 
directly for Corinth. He had resolved however, not to go to that 
city, until the very disagreeable difficulties which had there arisen 
in the church, had been entirely removed, according to the direc- 
tions given in the epistle which he had written to them from Eph- 
esus ; because he did not desire, after an absence of years, to visit 
them in such circumstances, when his Corinthian converts were 
divided among themselves, and against him, — and when his first 
duties would necessarily be those of a rigid censor. He therefore 
waited at Troas, with great impatience, for a message from them, 
announcing the settlement of all difficulties. This he expected 
to receive through Titus, a person now first mentioned in the 
apostle's history. Waiting with great impatience for this beloved 
brother, he found no rest in his spirit, and though a door was ev- 
idently opened by the Lord for the preaching of the gospel in 
Troas, he had no spirit for the good work there ; and desiring to be 
as near the great object of his anxieties as possible, he accordingly 
took leave of the brethren at Troas, and crossed the Aegean into 
Macedonia, by his former route. Here he remained in great dis- 
tress of mind, until his soul was at last comforted by the long ex- 
pected arrival of Titus. Luke only says, that he went over those 
parts and gave them much exhortation. But though his route is 
not given, his apostolic labors are known to have extended to the 
borders of Illyricum. At this time also, he made another impor- 
tant contribution to the list of the apostolic writings. 

THE SECOND EPISTLE TO THE CORINTHIANS. 

There is no part of the New Testament canon, about the date 
of which all authorities are so well agreed, as on the place and 
time, at which Paul wrote his second epistle to the Corinthians. 



PAUL. 561 

All authorities, ancient and modern, decide that it was written 
during the second visit of Paul to Macedonia ; although as to the 
exact year in which this took place, they are not entirely unan- 
imous. The passages in the epistle itself, which refer to Mace- 
donia as the region in which the apostle then was, are so numer- 
ous indeed, that there can be no evasion of their evidence. A great 
topic of interest with him, at the time of writing this epistle, was 
the collecting of the contributions proposed for the relief of the 
Christian brethren in Jerusalem ; and upon this he enlarges much, 
informing the Corinthians of the great progress he was making 
in Macedonia in this benevolent undertaking, and what high hopes 
he had entertained and expressed to the Macedonians, of the 
zeal and ability of those in Achaia, about the contributions. This 
matter had been noticed and arranged by him, in his former epis- 
tle to them, as already noticed, and he now proposed to send for- 
ward Titus and another person, (who is commonly supposed to 
be Luke,) to take charge of these funds, thus collected. He speaks 
of coming also himself, after a little time, and makes some allu- 
sions to the difficulties which had constituted the subject of the 
great part of his former epistle. Of their amendment in the 
particulars then so severely censured, he had received a full ac- 
count through Titus, when that beloved brother came on from 
Corinth, to join Paul in Macedonia. Paul assures the Corin- 
thians of the very great joy caused in him, by the good news of 
their moral and spiritual improvement, and renews his ardent 
protestations of deep affection for them. The incestuous person, 
whom they had excommunicated, in conformity with the denun- 
ciatory directions given in the former epistle, he now forgives ; 
and as the offender has since appeared to be truly penitent, he 
now urges his restoration to the consolations of Christian fel- 
lowship, lest he should be swallowed up with too much sorrow. 
He defends his apostolic character for prudence and decision, 
against those who considered his change of plans about coming 
directly from Ephesus to Corinth, as an exhibition of lightness 
and unsettled purpose. His real object in this delay and change of 
purpose, as he tells them, was, that they might have time to profit 
by the reproofs contained in his former epistle, so that by the re- 
moval of the evils of which he so bitterly complained, he might 
finally be enabled to come to them, not in sorrow, nor in heavi- 
ness for their sins, but in joy for their reformation. This fervent 
hope had been fulfilled by the coming of Titus to Macedonia, for 



562 paul, 

whom he had waited in vain, with so much anxiety at Troas, as 
the expected messenger of these tidings of their spiritual condi- 
tion ; and he was now therefore prepared to pass on to them from 
Macedonia, to which region he tells them he had gone from Troas, 
instead of to Corinth, because he had been disappointed about 
meeting Titus on the eastern side of the Aegean. With the ex- 
ception of these things, the epistle is taken up with a very ample 
and eloquent exhibition of his true powers and office as an apos- 
tle ; and in the course of this argument, so necessary for the re-es- 
tablishment of his authority among those who had lately been 
disposed to contemn it, he makes many very interesting allusions 
to his own personal history. The date of the epistle is com- 
monly supposed, and with good reason, to be A. D. 58, the fifth 
of Nero's reign, and one year after the preceding epistle. 

" Chap. ii. 12, 13. ' When I came to Troas to preach Christ's gospel, and a door 
was opened unto me of the Lord, I had no rest in my spirit, because I found not Ti- 
tus my brother ; but taking my leave of them, I went from thence into Macedonia.' 

" To establish a conformity between this passage and the history, nothing more is 
necessary to be presumed, than that St. Paul proceeded from Ephesus to Macedonia, 
upon the same course by which he came back from Macedonia to Ephesus, or rather 
to Miletus in the neighborhood of Ephesus; in other words, that, in his journey to 
the peninsula of Greece, he went and returned the same way. St Paul is now in 
Macedonia, where he had lately arrived from Ephesus. Our quotation imports that 
in his journey he had stopped at Troas. Of this, the history says nothing, leaving 
us only the short account, 'that Paul departed from Ephesus, for to go into Macedo- 
nia.' But the history says, that in his return from Macedonia to Ephesus, 'Paul 
sailed from Philippi to Troas ; and that, when the disciples came together on the 
first day of the week, to break bread, Paul preached unto them all night; that from 
Troas he went by land to Assos; from Assos, taking ship and coasting along the 
front of Asia Minor, he came by Mitylene to Miletus.' Which account proves, 
first, that Troas lay in the way by which St.Paul passed between Ephesus and Mace- 
donia; secondly, that he had disciples there. In one journey between these two 
places, the epistle, and in another journey between the same places, the history 
makes him stop at this city. Of the first journey he is made to say, ' that a door was 
in that city opened unto him of the Lord ;' in the second, we find disciples there col- 
lected around him, and the apostle exercising his ministry, with, what was even in 
him, more than ordinary zeal and labor. The epistle, therefore, is in this instance 
confirmed, if not by the terms, at least by the probability of the history ; a species of 
confirmation by no means to be despised, because, as far as it reaches, it is evidently 
uncontrived. 

" Grotius, I know, refers the arrival at Troas, to which the epistle alludes, to a 
different period, but I think very improbably ; for nothing appears to me more cer- 
tain, than that the meeting with Titus, which St. Paul expected at Troas, was the 
same meeting which took place in Macedonia, viz. upon Titus's coming out of 
Greece. In the quotation before us, he tells the Corinthians, ' When I came to Tro- 
as, I had no rest in my spirit, because I found not Titus, my brother; but, taking my 
leave of them, I went from thence into Macedonia.' Then in the seventh chapter 
he writes, ' When we were come into Macedonia, our flesh had no rest, but we were 
troubled on every side; without were fightings, within were fears; nevertheless, 
God, that comforteth them that are cast down, comforted us by the coming of Titus.' 
These t\ro passages plainly relate to the same journey of Titus, in meeting with 
whom St. Paul had been disappointed at Troas, and rejoiced in Macedonia. And 
amongst other reasons which fix the former passage to the coming of Titus out of 
Greece, is the consideration, that it was nothing to the Corinthians that St. Paul did 
not meet with Titus at Troas, were it not that he was to bring intelligence from 



paul. 503 

Corinth. The mention of the disappointment in this place, upon any other suppo- 
sition, is irrelative." (Paley's Hor. Paul. 2 Cor. No. VIII.) 

SECOND JOURNEY TO CORINTH. 

Among his companions in Macedonia, was Timothy, his ever 
zealous and affectionate assistant in the apostolic ministry, who 
had been sent thither before him to prepare the way, and had been 
laboring in that region ever since, as plainly appears from the fact, 
that he is joined with Paul in the opening address of the second 
epistle to the Corinthians, — a circumstance in itself sufficient to 
overthrow a very common supposition of the critics, — that Timo- 
thy returned to Asia ; that Paul at that time " left him in Ephe- 
sus," and at this time wrote his first epistle to Timothy from Ma- 
cedonia. It is also most probable that Timothy was the personal 
companion of Paul, not only during the whole period of his second 
ministration in Macedonia, but also accompanied him from that 
province to Corinth ; because Timothy is distinctly mentioned 
by Luke, among those who went with Paul from Macedonia to 
Asia, after his brief second residence in that city. No particu- 
lars whatever are given by Luke of the labors of Paul in Corinth. 
From his epistles, however, it is learned that he was at this time 
occupied in part, in receiving the contributions made throughout 
Achaia for the church of Jerusalem, to which city he was now 
preparing to go. The difficulties, of which so much mention had 
been made in his epistles, were now entirely removed, and his 
work there doubtless went on without any of that opposition 
which had arisen after his first departure. There is however, 
one very important fact in his literary history, which took place in 
Corinth, during his residence there. 

THE EPISTLE TO THE ROMANS. 

From the very earliest period of apostolic labor, after the as- 
cension, there appear to have been in Rome, some Jews who pro- 
fessed the faith of Jesus. Among the visitors in Jerusalem at the 
Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit first descended, were some from 
Rome, who sharing in the gifts of that remarkable effusion, and re- 
turning to their home in the imperial city, would there in themselves 
constitute the rudiment of a Christian church. It is perfectly 
certain that they had never been blessed in their own city with 
the personal presence of an apostle and all their associated action 
as a Christian church, must therefore have been entirely the result 
of a voluntary organization, suggested by the natural desire to 
keep up and to spread the doctrines which they had first received 



564 



PAUL. 



in Jerusalem, under such remarkable circumstances. Yet the 
members of the church would not be merely those who were con- 
verted at the Pentecost ; for there was a constant influx of Jews 
from all parts of the world to Rome, and among these there would 
naturally be some who had participated in the light of the gospel, 
now so widely diffused throughout the eastern section of the 
world. There is moreover distinct information of certain persons 
of high qualifications, as Christian teachers, who had at Rome la- 
bored in the cause of the gospel, ahd had no doubt been among 
the most efficient means of that advancement of the Roman church, 
which seems to be implied in the communication now first made 
to them by Paul. Aquilas and Priscilla, who had been the inti- 
mate friends of Paul at Corinth, and who had been already so 
active and distinguished as laborers in the gospel cause, both in 
that city and in Ephesus, had returned to Rome on the death of 
Claudius, when that emperor's foolish decree of banishment, 
against the Jews, expired along with its author, in the year of 
Christ, 54. These, on re-establishing their residence in Rome, 
made their own house a place of assembly for a part of the Chris- 
tians in the capital, — probably for such as resided in their own 
immediate neighborhood, while others sought different places, ac- 
cording as suited their convenience in this particular. Many other 
persons are mentioned by Paul at the close of this epistle, as hav- 
ing been active in the work of the gospel at Rome ; — among 
whom Andronicus and Junias are particularly noticed with re- 
spect, as having highly distinguished themselves in apostolic la- 
bors. From all these evangelizing efforts, the church of Rome 
attained great importance, and was now in great need of the coun- 
sels and presence of an apostle, to confirm it, and impart to its 
members spiritual gifts. It had long been an object of attention 
and interest to Paul, and he had already expressed a determina- 
tion to visit the imperial city, in the remarks which he made to 
the brethren at Ephesus, when he was making arrangements to 
go into Macedonia and Achaia. The way was afterwards opened 
for this visit, by a very peculiar providence, which he does not 
seem to have then anticipated ; but while residing in Corinth, his 
attention being very particularly called to their spiritual condition, 
he could not wait till he should have an opportunity to see them 
personally, to counsel them ; but wrote to them this very co- 
pious and elaborate epistle, which seems to have been the subject 
of more comment among dogmatic theologians, than almost any 



PAUL. 



565 



other portion of his writings, on account of its being supposed to 
furnish different polemic writers with the most important argu- 
ments for the peculiar dogmas of one or another, according to 
the fancy of each. It undoubtedly is the most doctrinal and di- 
dactic of all Paul's epistles, alluding very little to local circum- 
stances, which are the theme of so large a part of most of his 
writings, but attacking directly certain general errors entertained 
by the Jews, on the subject of justification, predestination, election, 
and many peculiar privileges which they attributed to themselves 
as the descendants of Abraham. 

This epistle, like most of the rest, was written by an amanuen- 
sis, who is herein particularly named, as Tertius, — a word of Ro- 
man origin ; but beyond this nothing else is known of him. It 
was carried to Rome by Phebe, an active female member of the 
church at Cenchreae, the port of Corinth, who happened to be 
journeying to Rome for some other purposes, and is earnestly re- 
commended by Paul to the friendly regard of the church there. 

RETURN TO ASIA. 

After passing three months in Corinth, he took his departure 
from that city, on his pre-determined voyage to the east, the 
direction of which was somewhat changed by the information 
that the Jews of the place where he then was, were plotting some 
mischief against him, which he thought best to avoid by taking a 
different route from that before planned, which was a direct 
voyage to Syria. To escape the danger prepared for him by 
them, at his expected place of embarkation, he first turned north- 
ward by land, through Macedonia to Philippi, and thence sailed 
by the now familiar track over the Aegean to Troas. On this 
journey, he was accompanied by quite a retinue of apostolic as- 
sistants, — not only his faithful disciple and companion Timothy, 
but also Sosipater of Beroea, Aristarchus and Secundus of Thes- 
salonica, Gaius, or Caius of Derbe, and Luke also, who now carries 
on the apostolic narrative in the first person, thus showing that he 
was himself a sharer in the adventures which he narrates. Besides 
these immediate companions, two brethren from Asia, Tychicus 
and Trophimus, took the direct route from Corinth to Troas, at 
which place they waited for the rest of the apostolic company, 
who took the circuitous route through Macedonia. The date of 
the departure of Paul is very exactly fixed by his companion 
Luke, who states that they left Philippi at the time of the passo- 
ver, which was in the middle of March ; and other circumstan- 

72 



566 pavl. 

ees have enabled modern critics to fix the occurrence in the year 
of Christ 59. After a five days' voyage, arriving at Troas on 
Saturday, they made a stay of seven days in that place : and on 
the first day of the week, the Christians of that place having as- 
sembled for the communion usual on the Lord's day, Paul 
preached to them : and as it was the last day of his stay, he grew 
very earnest in his discourse and protracted it very late, speaking 
two whole hours to the company, who were met in the great upper 
hall, where, in all Jewish houses, these festal entertainments and 
social meetings were always held. It was, of course, the evening, 
when the assembly met, for this was the usual time for a social 
party, and there were many lights in the room, which, with the 
number of people, must have made the air very warm, and had 
the not very surprising effect of causing drowsiness, in at least 
one of Paul's hearers, a young man named Entychus, whose 
interest in what was said, could not keep his attention alive 
against the pressure of drowsiness. He fell asleep ; and the oc- 
currence must appear so very natural, (more particularly to any 
one, who has ever been so unfortunate as to be sleepy at an eve- 
ning meeting, and knows what a painful sensation it is, though 
the drowsiness is wholly beyond the control of the reason,) that it 
can hardly be thought worth while to take pains, as some vene- 
rable commentators do, to suppose that the devil was very spe- 
cially concerned in producing the sleep of Eutychus, and that the 
consequences which ensued, were an exhibition of divine wrath 
against the sleepy youth, for slumbering under the preaching of 
Paul. If the supposition holds equally good in all similar cases, 
the devil must be very busy on warm Sunday afternoons ; and 
many a comfortable nap would be disturbed by unpleasant 
dreams, if the dozer could be made to think that his drowsiness 
was the particular work of the great adversary of souls, or that 
he was liable to suffer any such accident as Eutychus did, who, 
falling into a deeper sleep, and losing all muscular control and 
consciousness, sunk down from his seat, and slipping over the 
side of the gallery, in the third loft, fell into the court below, 
where he was taken up lifeless. But Paul hearing of the accident, 
stopped his discourse, and going down to the young man, fell on 
him and embraced him, saying, " Trouble not yourselves, for the 
life is in him." And his words were verified by the result ; for 
they soon brought him up alive, and were not a little comforted, 
Paul, certain of his recovery, did not suffer the accident to mas 



paul. 5G7 

the enjoyment of the social farewell meeting ; but going up and 
breaking bread with them all, talked with them a long time, 
passing the whole night in this pleasant way, and did not leave 
them till day-break, when he started to go by land over to Assos, 
about twenty-four miles south-east of Troas, on the Adramyttian 
gulf, which sets up between the north side -of the island of Les- 
bos and the mainland. His companions, coming around by water, 
through the mouth of the gulf, took Paul on board at Assos, ac- 
cording to his plan ; and then instead of turning back, and sailing 
out into the open sea, around the outside of Lesbos, ran up the 
gulf to the eastern end of the north coast of the island, where there 
is an other outlet to the gulf between the eastern shore of Lesbos 
and the continent. Sailing southward through this passage, after 
a course of between thirty and forty miles, they came to Mitylene, 
on the southeastern side of the island. Thence passing out of 
the strait, they sailed southwestwards, coming between Chios 
and the main-land, and arrived the next day at Trogyllium, at 
the southwest corner of Samos. Then turning their course to- 
wards the continent, they came in one day to Miletus, near the 
mouth of the Maeander, about forty miles south of Ephesus. 

Landing here, and desiring much to see some of his Ephesian 
brethren before his departure to Jerusalem, he sent to the elders 
of the church in that city, and on their arrival poured out his 
whole soul to them in a parting address, which for pathetic ear- 
nestness and touching beauty, is certainly, beyond any doubt, the 
most splendid passage that all the records of" ancient eloquence 
can furnish. No force can be added to it by a new version, nor 
can any recapitulation of its substance do justice to its beauty. At 
the close, took place a most affecting farewell. In the simple and 
forcible description of Luke, (who was himself present at the mo- 
ving scene, seeing and hearing all he narrates, } — " When Paul had 
thus spoken, he kneeled down and prayed with them all." The 
subjects of this prayer were the guardians of that little flock which 
he, amid perils and death, had gathered from the heathen waste 
of Ionic Asia, to the fold of Christ. When he left it last, the ra- 
ging wolves of persecution and wrath, — the wild beasts of Ephe- 
sus,- — were howling death and destruction to the devoted believers 
of Christ, and they were still environed with temptations and dan- 
gers, that threatened to overwhelm these feeble ones, left thus 
early without the fostering care of their apostolic shepherd. Pass- 
ing on his way to the great scene of his coming trials, he could 



568 paul. 

not venture among them to give them his parting counsels, and 
could now only intrust to their constituted guardians, this dear 
charge, with renewed exhortations to them to be faithful, as in the 
presence of their God, to those objects of his labors, his cares, his 
prayers, and his daily tears. Amid the sorrows of that long fare- 
well, arose on the prophetic vision of the apostle some gloomy 
foreshadowings of future woes to fall on that Ephesian charge, 
and this deepened the melancholy feeling of his heart almost to 
agony. This no doubt was the burden of his last prayer, when 
with their elders, and for them, he kneeled down on the shore and 
sent up in earnest petition to God, that voice which they were 
doomed to hear no more forever. 

Such passages as this in the life and words of Paul, consti- 
tute a noble addition to the reader's idea of his character. They 
show how nobly were intermingled in the varied frame of his 
spirit, the affectionate, the soft, and the winning traits, with the 
high, the stern, and the bitter feelings that so often were called 
out by the unparalleled trials of his situation. They show that 
that he truly felt and acted out, to the life, that divine principle 
of Christian love which inspired the most eloquent effort of his 
pen ; — and that he trusted not to the wonder-working powers that 
moved his lips, as with the eloquence of men and angels, — not to 
the martyr-spirit, that, sacrificing all earthly substance, devoted 
itself to the raging flames of persecution, in the cause of God, — 
not to the genius whose discursive glance searched all the myste- 
ries of human and divine knowledge, — but to that pure, exalted 
and exalting spirit of ardent love for those for whom he lived like 
his Savior, and for whom he was ready to die like him, also. 
This was the inspiration of his words, his writings, and his ac- 
tions, — the motive and spirit of his devotion, — the energy of his 
being. Wherever he went and whatever he did, — in spite of the 
frequent passionate outbreaks of his rougher nature, this honest, 
fervent, animated spirit of charity, — glowing not to inflame, but to 
melt, — softened the austerities of his character, and kindled in all 
who truly knew him, a deep and lasting affection for him, like 
that which was so strikingly manifested on this occasion. Who 
can wonder that to a man thus constituted, the lingering Ephe- 
sians still clung with such enthusiastic attachment ? In the fer- 
vid action of that oriental clime, they fell on his neck and kissed 
him, sorrowing most of all for the words which he said, — -that they 
should see his face no more. Still loth to take their last look at 



PAITL. 569 

one so loved, they accompanied him to the ship, which bore him 
away from them, to perils, sufferings and chains. 

" Assos was a sea.-port town, situated on the south-west part of the province of 
Troas, and over against the island Lesbos. By land it is much nearer Troas than 
by sea, because of a promontory that runs a great way into the sea, and must be 
doubled to come to Assos, which was perhaps the reason that the apostle chose rather 
to walk it." (Wells's Geog. and Calmet's Comment.) 

" Mitylene, (ch. xx. ver. 14,) was one of the principal cities in the island of Les- 
bos, situated on a peninsula with a commodious haven on each side ; the whole isl- 
and was also called by that name, as well as Pentapolis, from the five cities in it, 
viz. Issa or Antissa, Pyrrhe, Eressos, Arisba, and Mitylene. It is at present called 
Metelin. The island is one of the largest in the Archipelago, and was renowned 
for the many eminent persons it produced ; such as Sappho, the inventress of Sap- 
phic verses, — Alcaeus, a famous lyric poet, — Pittacus, one of the seven wise men of 
Greece, — Theophrastus, the noble' physician and philosopher, — and Arion, the cele- 
brated musician. It is now in the possession of the Turks. As mentioned by St. 
Luke, it may be understood either the island or the city itself." (Wells's Geog. and 
Whitby's Table.) 

" Chios, (ver. 15,) was an island in the Archipelago, next to Lesbos, both as to situa- 
tion and size. It lies over against Smyrna, and is not above four leagues distant 
from the Asiatic continent. Horace and Martial celebrate it for the wine and figs 
that it produced. It is now renowned for producing the best mastic in the world. 

" Sir Paul Ricaut, in his ' Present State of the Greek Church,' tells us, that there 
is no place in the Turkish dominions where Christians enjoy more freedom in their 
religion and estates than in this island, to which they are entitled by an ancient capit- 
ulation made with Sultan Mahomet II. (Wells's Geog.) 

" Samos, (ver. 15,) was another island of the Archipelago, lying south-east of 
Chios, and about five miles from the Asiatic continent. It was famous among 
heathen writers for the worship of Juno; for one of the Sibyls called Sibylla Sami- 
ana; for Pherecydes, who foretold an earthquake that happened there, by drinking 
of the waters; and more especially for the birth of Pythagoras. It was formerly a 
free commonwealth; at present, the Turks have reduced it to a mean and depopula- 
ted condition ; so that ever since the year 1676, no Turk has ventured to live on it 
on account of its being frequented by pirates, who carry all whom they take into. 
captivity." (Wells's Geog. and Whitby's Table.) 

" Trogylliwm, (ver. 15,) is a promontory at the foot of Mount Mycale, opposite to, 
and five miles from Samos: there was also a town there of the same name, mention- 
ed by Pliny, Lib. v. c. 29. p. 295." (Whitby's Table.) 

" Miletus, (ver. 15,) a sea-port town on the continent of Asia Minor, and in the 
province of Caria, memorable for being the birth-place of Thales, one of the seven 
wise men of Greece, and father of the Ionic philosophy ; of Anaximander, his scholar ; 
Timotheus, the musician; and Anaximenes, the philosopher. It is called now,, by 
the Turks, Melas; and not far distant from it is the true Meander. (Whitby's Table 
and Wells's Geog.) [Williams on Pearson, pp. 66, 67.] 

Tearing- himself thus from the embraces of his Ephesian breth- 
ren, Paul sailed off to the southward, hurrying on to Jerusalem, 
in order to reach there if possible, before the Pentecost. After 
leaving Miletus, the apostolic company made a straight course to 
Coos, and then rounding the great northwestern angle of Asia 
Minor, turned eastwardly to Rhodes, and passing probably through 
the strait, between that island and the continent, landed at Pata- 
ra, a town on the coast of Lycia, which was the destination of 
their first vessel. They therefore at this place engaged a passage 
in a vessel bound to Tyre, and holding on southeastward, came 
next in sight of Cyprus, which they passed, leaving it on the left, 



570 paul. 

and then steering straight for the Syrian coast, landed at Tyre, 
where their vessel was to unlade ; so that they were detained here 
for a whole week, which they passed in the company of some 
Christian brethren who constituted a church there. These Tyri- 
an disciples hearing of Paul's plan to visit Jerusalem, and know- 
ing the dangers to which he would there be exposed by the deadly 
hate of the Jews, were very urgent with him against his journey; 
but he still resolutely held on his course, as soon as a passage 
could be procured, and bade them farewell, with prayer on the. 
shore, to which the brethren accompanied him with their women 
and children. Standing off from the shore, they then sailed on 
south, to Ptolemais, where they spent a day with the Christians 
in that place, and then re-embarking, and passing round the 
promontory .of Oarmel, reached Caesarea, where their sea-voyage 
terminated. Here they passed several days in the house of Philip 
the evangelist, one of the seven deacons, who had four daughters 
that were prophetesses. While they were resting themselves in 
this truly religious family, from the- fatigues of their long voyage, 
they were visited by Agabus, a prophet from Jerusalem, — the same 
who had formerly visited Antioch when Paul was there, and who 
had then foretold the coming famine, which threatened all the 
world. This remarkable man predicted to Paul the misfortunes 
which awaited him in Jerusalem. In the solemnly impressive 
dramatic action of the ancient prophets, he took Paul's girdle, and 
binding his own hands with it, said—" Thus says the Holy Spirit, 
\ So shall the Jews at Jerusalem, bind the man that owns this gir- 
dle, and shall deliver him to the Gentiles.' " On hearing this mel- 
ancholy announcement, all the companions of Paul and the Chris- 
tians of Caesarea, united in beseeching Paul to give up his pur- 
pose of visiting Jerusalem. But he, resolute against all entreaty, 
declared himself ready not only to be bound, but to die in Jerusa- 
lem for the Lord Jesus. And when they found that he would 
not be persuaded, they all ceased to harass him with their sup- 
plications, and resigned him to Providence, saying, — ■" The will of 
the Lord be done." They then all took carriages, and rode up 
to Jerusalem, accompanied by some brethren from Caesarea, and 
by Mnason, an old believer, formerly of Cyprus, but now of Je- 
rusalem, who had engaged them as his guests in that city. 

" Coos, (ch. xxi. rer. 1,) an island in the Aegean or Icarian sea, near Mnydos and 
Cnidus, which had a city of the same name, from which Hippocrates, the celebrated 
physician, and Apelles, the famous painter, were called Coi. Here was a large 



PAUL. 



571 



temple of Aesculapius, and another of Juno. It abounded in rich wines, and 
is very often mentioned by the classic poets." (Whitby's Alphab. Table.) 

Witsius very absurdly defines the situation of this island by saying that it is " near 
Crete."— "Coos, quae maris Mediterranei insula est prope Cretam." It is in the 
Aegean sea properly, and not in the Mediterranean; and can not be less than one 
hundred and twenty miles from Crete, much farther off from it than is Rhodes.— the 
next island in Paul's route, and there are many islands between Coos and Crete, 
so that the statement gives no just idea of the situation of the island. It would be 
as proper to say that Barbadoes is near Cuba, or the isle of Man near France. 

" Rhodes, (ver. 1,) an island, supposed to have taken its name (ano ™v Po<5o>v) from 
the many roses which were known to grow there. It lies south of the province of 
Caria, and it is accounted next to Cyprus and Lesbos, for its dignity among the 
Asiatic islands. It was remarkable among the ancients for the expertness of its in- 
habitants in navigation ; for a college, in which the students were eminent for elo- 
quence and mathematics ; and for the clearness of its air, insomuch that there was 
not a day in which the sun did not shine upon it; and more especially celebrated for 
its prodigious statue of brass, consecrated especially to the sun, and called his Colos- 
sus. This statue was seventy cubits high, and every finger as large as an ordinary 
sized man, and as it stood astride over the mouth of the harbor, ships passed under 
its legs." (Whitby's Table and Wells's Geog.) [Williamson Pearson, pp. 67, 68.] 

LAST VISIT TO JERUSALEM. 

Paul was now received in Jerusalem by the brethren with great 
joy, and going, on the day after his arrival, to see James, now the 
principal apostle resident in the Holy city, communicated to him 
and all the elders a full account of all his various labors. Having 
heard his very interesting communications, they were moved with 
gratitude to God for this triumph of his grace ; but knowing as 
they did, with what rumors against Paul these events had 
been connected by common fame, they desired to arrange his in- 
troduction to the temple in such a manner, as would most effec- 
tually silence these prejudicial stories. The plan proposed by 
them was, that he should, in the company of four Jews of the 
Christian faith, who had a vow on them, go through with 
all the usual forms of purification prescribed under such cir- 
cumstances for a Jew, on returning from the daily impurities 
to which he -was exposed by a residence among the Gentiles, to a 
participation in the holy services of solemn worship in the temple. 
The apostles and elders, however, in recommending this course, 
declared to him, that they believed that the Gentiles ought not to 
be bound to the performance of the Jewish rituals, but should be 
exempt from all restrictions, except such as had formerly been de- 
cided on, by the council of Jerusalem. Paul, always devout and 
exact in the observance of the institutions of his national reli- 
gion, followed their advice accordingly, and went on quietly and 
unpretendingly in the regular performance of the prescribed cere- 
monies, waiting for the termination of the seven days of purifica- 
tion, when the offering should be made for himself, and one for 
each of his companions, after which, they were all to be admitted 



572 paul. 

of course, to the full honors of Mosaic purity, and the relio-ious 
privileges of conforming Jews. But these ritual observances 
were not destined to save him from the calamities to which the 
hatred of his enemies had devoted him. Near the close of the 
seven days allotted by the Mosaic ritual for the purification of a 
regenerated Israelite, some of the Asian Jews, who had known 
Paul in his missionary journeys through their own country, and 
who had come to Jerusalem, to attend the festival, seeing their 
old enemy in the midst of the temple, against whose worship 
they had understood him to have been preaching to the Gentiles, 
— instantly raised a great outcry, and fell upon him, dragging 
him along, and shouting to the multitude around, "Men of Israel ! 
help ! This is the man, that every where teaches all men against 
the people, and the law, and this place ; and he has furthermore, 
brought. Greeks into the temple, and has polluted this holy place." 
It seems they had seen Trophimus, one of his Gentile companions 
from Ephesus, with him in the city, and imagined also that Paul 
had brought him into the temple, within the sanctuary, whose 
entrance was expressly forbidden to all Gentiles, who were never 
allowed to pass beyond the outermost court. The sanctuary or 
court of the Jews could not be crossed by an uncircumcised Gen- 
tile, and the transgression of the holy limit was punished with 
death. Within this holy court, the scene now described took 
place ; and as the whole sanctuary was then crowded with Jews, 
who had come from all parts of the world to attend the festival in 
Jerusalem, the outcry raised against Paul immediately drew 
thronging thousands around him. Hearing the complaint that 
he was a renegade Jew, who, in other countries, had used his ut- 
most endeavors to throw contempt on his own nation, and to 
bring their holy worship into disrepute, and yet had now the im- 
pudence to show himself in the sanctuary, which he had thus 
blasphemed, — and had, moreover, even profaned it by introducing 
into the sacred precincts one of those Gentiles for whose compa- 
ny he had forsaken the fellowship of Israel, — they all joined in 
the rush upon him, and dragged him out of the temple, the gates 
of which were immediately shut by the Levites on duty, lest in 
the riot that was expected to ensue, the consecrated pavement 
should be polluted with the blood of the renegade. Not only 
those in the temple, but also all those in the city, were called out 
by the disturbance, and came running together to join in the mob 



paul. 573 

against the profaner of the sanctuary, and Paul now seemed in 
a fair way to win the bloody crown of martyrdom. 

The great noise made by the swarming multitudes who were 
gathering around Paul, soon reached the ears of the Roman gar- 
rison in castle Antonia, and the soldiers instantly hastened to tell 
the commanding officer, that " the whole city was in an uproar." 
The tribune, Claudius Lysias, probably thinking of a rebellion 
against the Romans, instantly ordered a detachment of several 
companies under arms, and hurried down with them, in a few 
moments, to the scene of the riot. The mob meanwhile were dil- 
gently occupied in beating Paul ; but as soon as the military force 
made their way among the crowd, the rioters left off beating him, 
and fell back. The tribune coming near, and seeing Paul alone 
in the midst, who seemed to be the object and occasion of all the 
disturbance, without hesitation seized him, and putting him in 
chains, took him out of the throng. He then demanded what all 
this riot meant. To his inquiry, the whole mob replied with 
various accounts ; some cried one thing and some another ; and 
the tribune finding it utterly impossible to learn from the riot- 
ers who he was or what he had done, ordered him to be taken 
up to the castle. Castle Antonia stood at the northwestern angle 
of the temple, close by one of the great entrances to it, near which 
the riot seems to have taken place. To this, Paul was now ta- 
ken, and was borne by the surrounding soldiers, to keep off the 
multitude, who were raging for his blood, like hungry wolves af- 
ter the prey snatched from their jaws, — and they all pressed after 
him, shouting, " kill him !" In this way Paul was carried up the 
stairs which led to the high entrance of the castle, which of 
course the soldiers would not allow the multitude to mount ; and 
when he had reached the top of the stairs, he was therefore per- 
fectly protected from their violence, though perfectly well situated 
for speaking to them so as to be distinctly seen and heard. As 
they were taking him up the stairs, he begged the attention of the 
tribune, saying, " May I speak to thee ?" The tribune hearing this, 
in some surprise asked, " Canst thou speak Greek ? Art thou not 
that Egyptian that raised a sedition some time ago, and led away 
into the wilderness a band of four thousand cut-throats ?" This 
alarming revolt had been but lately put down with great trouble, 
and was therefore fresh in the mind of Lysias, who had been con- 
cerned in quelling it, along with the whole Roman force in Pales- 
tine, — and from some of the outcries of the mob, he now took up the 

73 



571 paxjx, 

notion that Paul was the very ringleader of that revolt, and had 
now just returned from his place of refuge to make new trouble, 
and had been detected by the multitude in the temple. Paul an- 
swered the foolish accusation of the tribune, by saying, " I am a 
Jewish citizen of Tarsus, in Cilicia, which is no mean city ; and I 
beg of thee, to let me speak to the people." The tribune, quite glad 
to have his unpleasant suspicions removed, as an atonement for 
the unjust accusation immediately granted the permission as re- 
quested, and Paul therefore turned to the raging multitude, wa- 
ving his hand in the usual gesture for requesting silence. The 
people, curious to hear his account of himself, listened accordingly, 
and he therefore uplifted his voice in a respectful request for their 
attention to his plea in his own behalf. " Men ! Brethren ! and 
Fathers ! Hear ye my defence which I make to you !" 

Those words were spoken in the vernacular language of Pal- 
estine, the true Hebraistic dialect of Jerusalem, and the multitude 
were thereby immediately undeceived about his character, for 
they had been as much mistaken about him, as the tribune was, 
though their mista,ke was of a very opposite character ; for 
they supposed him to be entirely Greek in his habits and lan- 
ffiiasre. if not in his orio-in : and the vast concourse was there- 
fore hushed in profound silence, to hear his address made in the 
true Jewish language. Before this strange audience, Paul then 
stood up boldly, to declare his character, his views, and his apos- 
tolic commission. On the top of the lofty rampart of Castle An- 
tonia, — with the dark iron forms of the Roman soldiery around 
him, guarding the staircase from top to bottom, against the raging 
mob, — and with the enormous mass of the congregated thousands 
of Jerusalem, and of the strangers who had come up to the fes- 
tival, all straining their fierce eyes in wrath and hate upon him, 
as a convicted renegade, — one feeble, slender man, now stood, 
the object of the most painful attention to all, — yet, less moved 
with passion and anxiety than any one present. Thus stationed, 
he began, and gave to the curious multitude an interesting ac- 
count of the incidents connected with that great change in his 
feelings and belief, which was the occasion of the present diffi- 
culty. After giving them a complete statement of these particu- 
lars, he was narrating the circumstance of a revelation made to 
him in the temple, while in a devotional trance there, on his first 
return to Jerusalem, after his conversion. In repeating the solemn 
commission there confirmed to him by the voice of God. he 



paul. 575 

repeated the crowning sentence, with which the Lord removed 
his doubts about engaging in the work of preaching the gospel, 
when his hands were yet, as it were, red with the blood of the 
martyred faithful, — " And he said to me, c Go : for I will send 
thee far hence, unto the Gentiles.'" But when the listening 
multitude heard this clear declaration of his having considered 
himself authorized to communicate to the Gentiles those holy 
things which had been especially consigned by God to his pecu- 
liar people, — they took it as a clear confession of the charge of 
having desecrated and degraded his national religion, and all in- 
terrupted him with the ferocious cry, " Take him away from the 
earth ! for such a fellow does not deserve to live." The tribune, 
rinding that this discussion was not likely to answer any good 
purpose, instantly put a stop to it, by dragging him into the castle, 
and gave directions that he should be examined by scourging, 
that they might make him confess truly who he .was, and what he 
had done to make the people cry out so against him, — a very 
foolish way, it would seem, to find out the truth about an un- 
known and abused person, to flog him until he should tell a 
story that would please them. While the guard were binding 
him with thongs, before they laid on the scourge, Paul spoke to 
the centurion, who was superintending the operation, and said in 
a sententiously inquiring way, " Is it lawful for you to scourge a 
Roman citizen without legal condemnation ?" This question put 
a stop to all proceedings at once. The centurion immediately 
dropped the thongs, and ran to the tribune, saying, " Take heed 
what thou doest, for this man is a Roman citizen." The tribune 
then came to Paul, in much trepidation, and with great solemnity 
said — "Tell. me truly, -art thou a Roman citizen?" Paul dis- 
tinctly declared, " Yes." 

Desirous to learn the mode in which the prisoner had obtained 
this most sacred and unimpeachable privilege, the tribune remark- 
ed of himself, that he had obtained this right by the payment of a 
large sum of money, — perhaps doubting whether a man of Paul's 
poor aspect could have ever been able to buy it; to which Paul boldly 
replied — " But I was born free." This clear declaration satisfied the 
tribune that he had involved himself in a very serious difficulty, by 
committing this illegal violence on a person thus entitled to ail the 
privileges of a subject of law. All the subordinate agents also, were 
fully aware of the nature of the mistake, and all immediately let him 
alone. Lysias now kept Paul with great care in the castle, as a place 



576 



PAUL. 



of safety from his Jewish persecutors ; and the next day, in order to 
have a full investigation of his character and the charges against 
him, he took him before the Sanhedrim, for examination. Paul 
there opened his defence in a very appropriate and self-vindica- 
ting style. " Men ! Brethren ! and Fathers ! I have heretofore 
lived before God with a good conscience." At these words, An- 
anias the high priest, provoked by Paul's seeming assurance in 
thus vindicating himself, when under the accusation of the heads 
of the Jewish religion, commanded those that stood next to Paul 
to slap him on the mouth. Paul, indignant at the high-handed 
tyranny of this outrageous attack on him, answered in honest 
wrath — " God shall smite thee, thou whited wall ! For dost thou 
command me to be smitten contrary to the law, when thou sittest 
as a judge over me V* The other by-standers, enraged at his bold- 
ness, asked him, "Revilest thou God's high priest ?" To which 
Paul, not having known the fact that Ananias then held that of- 
fice, which he had so disgraced by his infamous conduct, replied— 
" I knew not, brethren, that he was the high priest ; for it is writ- 
ten, thou shalt not speak evil of the ruler of thy people." Then, 
perceiving the mixed character of the council, he determined to 
avail himself of the mutual hatred of the two great sects, for his de- 
fense, by making his own persecution a kind of party question ; 
and therefore called out to them — " I am a Pharisee, the son of a 
Pharisee. Of the hope of the resurrection of the dead, I am call- 
ed in question." These words had the expected effect. Instantly, 
all the violent party feeling between these two sects broke out in 
full force, and the whole council was divided and confused, — the 
scribes who belonged to the Pharisaic order, arising, and declaring, 
" We find no occasion of evil in this man. But if a spirit or an 
angel has spoken to him, let us not fight against God." This last 
remark, of course, was throwing down the gauntlet at the opposite 
sect ; for the Sadducees, denying absolutely the existence of either 
angel or spirit, could of course believe no part of Paul's story 
about his vision and spiritual summons. They all therefore broke 
out against the Pharisees, who being thus involved, took Paul's 
side very determinedly, and the party strife grew so hot that Paul 
was like to be torn in pieces between them. The tribune, seeing 
the pass to which matters had come, then ordered out the castle- 
guard, and took him by force, bringing him back to his former 
place of safety. 



paul. 577 

u The reason why St. Paul chose to speak in the Hebrew tongue, may be account- 
ed for thus. There were at this time two sorts of Jews, some called by Chrysoslom 
m (3a0sis 'KSpaioi, profound Hebrews, who used no other language but the Hebrew, and 
would not admit the Greek Bible into their assemblies, but only the Hebrew, with 
the Jerusalem Targum and Paraphrase. The other sort spoke Greek, and used 
that translation of the scriptures; these were called Hellenists. This was a cause 
of great dissension among these two parties, even after they had embraced Chris- 
tianity, (Acts vi. 1.) Of this latter sort was St. Paul, because he always made use 
of the Greek translation of the Bible in his writings, so that in this respect he might 
not be acceptable to the other party. Those of them who were converted to Chris- 
tianity, were much prejudiced against him, (Acts xxi. 21,) which is given as a reason 
for his concealing his name in his Epistle to the Hebrews. And as for those who 
were not converted, they could not so much as endure him: and this is the reason 
which Chrysostom gives, why he preached to the Hellenists only. Acts ix. 28. 
Therefore, that he might avert the great displeasure which the Jews had conceived 
against him, he accosted them in iheir favorite language, and by his compliance in 
this respect, they were so far pacified as to give him audience." (Hammond's An- 
not.) [Williams's Pearson, p. 70.] 

" Scourging was a method of examination used by Romans and other nations, to 
force such as were supposed guilty to confess what they had done, what were their 
motives, and who were accessory to the fact. Thus Tacitus tells us of Herennius 
Gallus, that he received several stripes, that it might be known for what price, and 
with what confederates, he had betrayed the Roman army. It is to be observed, 
however, that the Romans were punished in this wise, not by whips and scourges, 
but with rods only; and therefore it is that Cicero, in his oration pro Rabirio, speak- 
ing against Labienus, tells his audience that the Porcian law permitted a Roman to 
be whipped with rods, but he, like a good and merciful man, (speaking ironically,) 
had done it with scourges ; and still further, neither by whips nor rods could a citi- 
zen of Rome be punished, until he were first adjudged to lose his privilege, to be un- 
citizened, and to be declared an enemy to the commonwealth, then he might be 
scourged or put to death. Cicero Oratio in Verres, says, ' It is a foul fault for any 
praetor, &c. to bind a citizen of Rome; a piacular offense to scourge him; a kind 
of parricide to kill him: what shall I call the crucifying of such an one V" (Will- 
iams's notes on Pearson, pp. 70, 71.) 

" Ananias, the son of Nebedaeus, was high priest at the time that Helena, queen 
of Adiabene, supplied the Jews with corn from Egypt, (Jos. Ant. lib. xx. c. 5. § 2,> 
during the famine which took place in the fourth year of Claudius, mentioned in the 
eleventh chapter of the Acts. St. Paul, therefore, who took a journey to Jerusalem 
at that period, (Acts xv.) could not have been ignorant of the elevation of Ananias 
to that dignity. Soon after the holding of the first council, as it is called, at Jerusa- 
lem, Ananias was dispossessed of his office, in consequence of certain acts of vio- 
lence between the Samaritans and the Jews, and sent prisoner to Rome, (Jos. Ant. 
lib. xx. c. 6. § 2,) whence he was afterwards released and returned to Jerusalem. 
Now from that period he could not be called high priest, in the proper sense of the 
word, though Josephus (Ant. lib. xx. c. 9. § 2, and Bell, Jud. lib. ii. c. 17. § 9,) has 
sometimes given him the tille of apx^pws, taken in the more extensive meaning of a 
priest, who had a seat and voice in the Sanhedrim ; (apxupas in the plural number is 
frequently used in the New Testament, when allusion is made to the Sanhedrim ;) 
and Jonathan, though we are not acquainted with the circumstances of his elevation, 
had been raised, in the mean time, to the supreme dignity in the Jewish church. Be- 
tween the death of Jonathan, who was murdered (Jos. Ant. Jud. lib. xx. c. 8. § 5,) by 
order of Felix, and the high priesthood of Ismael, who was invested with that 
office by Agrippa, (Jos. Ant. lib. xx. c. 8. § 3,) elapsed an interval in which this dig- 
nity continued vacant. Now it happened precisely in this interval, that St. Paul was 
apprehended at Jerusalem; and, the Sanhedrim being destitute of a president, he 
undertook of his own authority the discharge of that office, which he executed with 
the greatest tyranny. (Jos. Ant. lib. xx. c. 9. § 2.) It is possible therefore that St. 
Paul, who had been only a few days at Jerusalem, might be ignorant that Ananias, 
who had been dispossessed of the priesthood, had taken upon himself a trust to which 
he was not entitled. He might therefore very naturally exclaim, ' I wist not, breth- 
ren, that he was the high priest !' Admitting him on the other hand to have been 
acquainted with the fact, the expression must be considered as an indirect reproof, 
and a tacit refusal to recognize usurped authority." (Michaelis, Vol. I. pp. 51, 56.) 



578 



PAUL, 



" The prediction of St. Paul, v. 3, ' God shall smite thee, thou whited wall,* was, 
according to Josephus, fulfilled in a short time. For when, in the government of 
Floras, his son Eleazar set himself at the head of a party of mutineers, who, hav- 
ing made themselves masters of the temple, would permit no sacrifices to be offered 
for the emperor; and being joined by a company of assassins, compelled persons of 
the best quality to fly for their safety and hide themselves in sinks and vaults ; — Ana- 
nias and his brother Hezekias, were both drawn out of one of these places, and 
murdered, (Jos. de Bell. lib. ii. c. 17, 18,) though Dr. Lightfoot will have it that he 
perished at the siege of Jerusalem I" (Whitby's Annot.) [Williams on Pearson.] 

During that night, the soul of Paul was comforted by a hea- 
venly vision, in which the Lord exhorted him to maintain the 
same high spirit, — assuring him that as he had testified of him 
in Jerusalem, even so he should bear witness in Rome. His 
dangers in Jerusalem, however, were not yet over. The furious 
Jews, now cut off from all possibility of doing any violence to 
Paul, under the sanction of legal forms, determined to set all mod- 
eration aside, and forty of the most desperate bound themselves 
by a solemn oath, neither to eat nor drink, till they had slain 
Paul. In the arrangement of the mode in which their abomina- 
ble vow should be performed, it was settled between them and 
the high-priest, that a request should be sent to the tribune to 
bring down Paul before the council once more, as if for the 
sake of putting some additional inquiries to him for their final 
and perfect satisfaction ; and then, that these desperadoes should 
station themselves, where they could make a rush upon Paul, just 
as he was entering the council-hall, and kill him before the guard 
could bestir themselves in his defense, or seize the murderers ; 
and even if some of them should be caught and punished, it 
never need be known, that the high priest was accessory to the 
assassination. But while they were arranging this hopeful piece 
of wickedness, they did not manage it so snugly as was necessary 
for the success of the plot ; for it somehow or other got to the 
ears of Paul's nephew, — a young man no where else mentioned in 
the New Testament, and of whose character and situation, no- 
thing whatever is known. He, hearing of the plot, came instantly 
to his uncle, who sent him to communicate the tidings to the 
tribune. Lysias, on receiving this account of the utterly desperate 
character of the opposition to Paul, determined not to risk his 
prisoner's life any longer in Jerusalem, even when guarded by the 
powerful defenses of castle Antonia. He dismissed the young 
man with the strongest injunctions, to observe the most profound 
secrecy, as to the fact of his having made this communication to 
him : and immediately made preparations to send off Paul, that 



paul, 579 

very night, to Caesarea, designing to have him left there with the 
governor of the province, as a prisoner of state, and thus to rid 
himself of all responsibility about this very difficult and perilous 
business. He ordered two centurions to draw out a detachment, 
of such very remarkable strength, as shows the excess of his 
fears for Paul. Two hundred heavy-armed soldiers, seventy horse- 
men, and two hundred lancers, were detached as a guard for Paul, 
and were all mounted for speed, to take him beyond the reach of 
the Jerusalem desperadoes, that very night. He gave to that por- 
tion of the detachment that was designed to go all the way to 
Caesarea, a letter to be delivered to Felix the governor, giving a 
fair and faithful account of all the circumstances connected with 
Paul's imprisonment and perils in Jerusalem. 

RETURN TO CAESAREA. 

The strong mounted detachment, numbering four hundred and 
seventy full-armed Roman warriors, accordingly set out that night 
at nine o'clock, and moving silently off from the castle, which 
stood near one of the western gates of the city, passed out of Jeru- 
salem unnoticed in the darkness, and galloped away to the north- 
west. After forty miles of hard riding, they reached Antipatris 
before day, and as all danger of pursuit from the Jerusalem assas- 
sins was out of the question there, the mounted infantry and the 
lancers returned to Jerusalem, leaving Paul however, the very re- 
spectable military attendance of the seventy horse-guards. With 
these, he journeyed to Caesarea, only about twenty-five miles off, 
where he was presented by the commander of the detachment to 
Felix, the Roman governor, who always resided in Caesarea, the 
capital of his province. The governor, on reading the letter and 
learning that Paul was of Cilicia, deferred giving his case a full 
hearing, until his accusers had also come ; and committed him for 
safe keeping in the interval, to an apartment in the great palace, 
built by Herod the Great, the royal founder of Caesarea. 

After a delay of five days, the high priest and the elders came 
down to Caesarea, to prosecute their charges against Paul before 
the governor. They brought with them, as their advocate, a 
speech-maker named Tertullus, whose name shows him to have 
been of Roman connections or education, and who, on account of 
his acquaintance with the Latin forms of oratory and law, was no 
doubt selected by Ananias and his coadjutors, as a person better 
qualified than themselves to maintain their cause with effect, be- 
fore the governor, Tertullus accordingly opened the case, and 



580 



PAt'L; 



when Paul had been confronted with his accusers, began with a 
very tedious string- of formal compliments to Felix, and then set 
_ a complaint against Paul in very bitter and abusive terms, 
stating his offense to be. the attempt to profane the temple, for 
which the Jews would have convicted and punished him. if Lvsias 
had not violently hindered, and put them to the trouble cf bring- 
ing the whole business before the governor, though a matter ex- 
clusively concerning their religious law. To all his assertions the 
Jews testified. 

This presentation of the accusation being made. Paul was then 
called on for his defense ; which he thereupon delivered in a tone 
highly respectful to the governor, and maintained that he had been 
guilty of none of the troublesome and riotous conduct of which 
he was accused : but quietly, without any effort to make a com- 
motion among the people anywhere, had come into the city on a 
visit, after many years absence, to bring alms and offerings : and 
that when he was seized by the Asian Jews in the temple, he was 
going blamelessly through the established ceremonies of purifica- 
tion. He complained also, that his original accusers, the Asian Jews. 
were not confronted with him. and challenged his present prose- 
cutors to bring any evidence against him. Felix, after this hear- 
ing of the case, on the pretence of needing Lvsias as a witness on 
the facts, deferred his decision, and left both accusers and accused 
to the enjoyment of the delays and " glorious uncertainties of the 
law."' Meanwhile he committed Paul to the charge of a centuri- 
on, with directions that he should be allowed all reasonable liber- 
ty, and should not be in any particular restricted from the freest 
intercourse with his friends. The imprisonment of Paul at Cae- 
sarea was merely nominal : and he must have passed his time 
both pleasantly and profitably, with the members of the church at 
Caesarea. with whom he had formerly been acquainted, especially 
with Philip and his family. Besides these, he was also favored 
with the company of several of his assistants, who had been the 
companions of his toils in Europe and Asia ; and through them he 
could hold the freest correspondence with any of the numerous 
churches of his apostolic charge throughout the world. He re- 
sided here for two whole years at least, of Felix's administration : 
and daring that time, was more than once sent for by the govern- 
or, to hold-conversations with him on the great objects of his life, in 
some of which he expressed himself so forcibly on righteousness, 
temperance and judgment to come, that the wicked governor. — at 



PAUL. 581 

that moment sitting in the presence of the apostle with an adul- 
terous paramour, — trembled at the view presented by Paul of the 
consequences of those sins for which Felix was so infamous. But 
his repentant tremors soon passed off, and he merely dismissed the 
apostle with the vague promise, that at some more convenient sea- 
son he would send for him. He did indeed, often send for him af- 
ter this ; but the motive of these renewals of intercourse seems to 
have been of the basest order, for it is stated by the sacred histo- 
rian, that his real object was to induce Paul to offer him a bribe, 
which he supposed could be easily raised by the contributions of 
his devoted friends. But the hope was vain. It was no part of 
Paul's plan of action to hasten the decision of his movements by 
such means, and the consequence was, that Felix found so little 
occasion to befriend him, that when he went out of the office 
which he had uniformly disgraced by tyranny, rapine, and mur- 
der, he thought it, on the whole, worth while to gratify the late 
subjects of his hateful sway, by leaving Paul still a prisoner. 

" This Brasilia was the youngest daughter of Herod Agrippa. (Jos. lib. xix. c. 9. in.) 
Josephus gives the following account of her marriage with Felix : — ' Agrippa, hav- 
ing received this present from Caesar, (viz. Claudius,) gave his sister Brasilia in 
marriage to the Azizus, king of the Emesenes, when he had consented to be circum- 
cised. For Epiphanes, the son of king Antiochus, had broken the contract with her, 
by refusing to embrace the Jewish customs, although he had promised her father he 
would. But this marriage of Brasilia with Azizus was dissolved in a short time, 
after this manner. When Felix . was procurator of Judaea, having had a sight of 
her, he was mightily taken with her ; and indeed she was the most beautiful of her 
sex. He therefore sent to her Simon, a Jew of Cyprus, who was one of his friends, 
and pretended to magic, by whom he persuaded her to leave her husband, and marry 
him; promising to make her perfectly happy, if she did not disdain him. It was 
far from being a sufficient reason ; but to avoid the envy of her sister Bernice, who 
was continually doing her ill offices, because of her beauty, she was induced to trans- 
gress the laws "of her country, and marry Felix.' (Lardner's Credibility, 4to. Vol. L 
p. 16, 17, edit London, 1815.) [Williams on Pearson, p. 78.] 

The successor of Felix in the government of Palestine, was 
Porcius Festus, a man whose administration is by no means char- 
acterized in the history of those times by a reputation for justice 
or prudence ; yet in the case of Paul, his conduct seems to have 
been much more accordant with right and reason, than was that 
of the truly infamous Felix. Yisiting the religious capital of the 
Jews soon after his first entrance into the province, he was there 
earnestly petitioned by the ever-spiteful foes of Paul, to cause this 
prisoner to be brought up to Jerusalem for trial, intending when 
Paul should enter the city, to execute their old plan of assassina- 
tion, which had been formerly frustrated by the benevolent pru- 
dence and energy of Claudius Lysias. But Festus, perhaps hav- 
ing received some notification of this plot, from the friends of Paul. 

74 



582 paul, 

utterly refused to bring the prisoner to Jerusalem, but required 
the presence of the accusers in the proper seat of the supreme pro- 
vincial administration of justice at Caesarea. After a ten days' 
stay in Jerusalem, he returned to the civil capital, and with a com- 
mendable activity in his judicial proceedings, on the very next 
day after his arrival in Caesarea, summoned Paul and his accu- 
sers before him. The Jews of course, told their old story, and 
brought out against Paul many grievous complaints, which they 
could not prove. His only reply to all this accusation without 
testimony was — " Neither against the law of the Jews, nor against 
the temple, nor yet against Caesar, have I offended in any par- 
ticular." But Festus having been in some way influenced to fa- 
vor the designs of the Jews, urged Paul to go up to Jerusalem, 
there to be tried by the supreme religious court of his own nation. 
Paul replied by a bold and distinct assertion of his rights, as a 
Roman citizen, before the tribunal of his liege lord and sovran : 
" I stand before Caesar's judgment-seat, where I ought to be 
judged. To the Jews I have done no wrong, as thou very well 
knowest. If I am guilty of anything that deserves death, I refuse 
not to die ; but if I have done none of these things of which they 
accuse me, no man can deliver me into their hands. I appeal 
to Caesar." This solemn concluding formula put him at once 
far beyond the reach of all inferior tyranny ; henceforth no go- 
vernor in the world could direct the fate of the appellant Roman 
citizen, throwing before himself the adamantine aegis of Roman 
law. Festus himself, though evidently displeased at this turn of 
events, could not resist the course of law ; but after a conference 
with this council, replied to Paul — " Dost thou appeal to Caesar ? 
To Caesar shalt thou go." 

While Paul was still detained at Caesarea, after this final re- 
ference of his case to the highest judicial authority in the world, 
Festus was visited at Caesarea, by Herod Agrippa II. king of Itu- 
rea, Trachonitis, Abilene, and other northern regions of Palestine, 
the son of that Herod Agrippa whose character and actions were 
connected with the incidents of Peter's life. He, passing through 
Judea with his sister Bernice, stopped at Caesarea, to pay their 
compliments to the new Roman governor. During their stay there, 
Festus, with a view to find rational entertainment for his royal 
guests, bethought himself of Paul's case, as one that would be 
likely to interest them, connected as the prisoner's fate seemed to 
be, with the religious and legal matters of that peculiar people to 



PAUL. 



583 



whom Agrippa liimself belonged, and in the minutiae of whose 
law and theology he had been so well instructed, that his opinion 
on the case would be well worth having, to one as little acquaint- 
ed with these matters as the heathen governor himself was. Fes- 
tus therefore gave a very full account of the whole case to Agrip- 
pa, in terms that sufficiently well exhibited the perplexities in 
which he was involved, and in expressions which are strikingly 
and almost amusingly characteristic,— complaining as he does of 
the very abstruse and perplexing nature of the accusations brought 
by the Jews, as being " certain questions of their own religion, 
and of one Jesus, whom Paul affirmed to be alive." Agrippa was 
so much interested in the case that he expressed a wish to hear 
the man in person ; and Festus accordingly arranged that he 
should the next day be gratified with the hearing. 

" ' King Agrippa and Bernice. 3 Acts. xxv. 13. This Agrippa was the son of 
Herod Agrippa ; St. Luke calls him king, which Josephus also does very often. 
(Ant. lib. xx. c. viii. § 6, et passim.) Bat St. Luke does not suppose him to be king 
of Judaea, for all the judicial proceedings of that country relating to St. Paul, are 
transacted before Felix, and Festus his successor; besides, he says, that ' Agrippa 
came to Caesarea to salute Festus,' to compliment him on his arrival, &c. ver. 1. 
When his father died, Claudius would have immediately put him in possession of 
his father's dominions, but he was advised not to do so, on account of the son's 
youth, then only seventeen; the emperor, therefore, ' appointed Cuspius Fadusprae- 
fect of Judea and the whole kingdom, (Jos. Ant. lib. xix. c. 9, ad fin.) who was suc- 
ceeded by Tiberius, Alexander, Cumanus, Felix, and Festus, though these did not 
possess the province in the same extent that Fadus did.' (Ant. xx. Bell. lib. ii.) 

"Agrippa had, notwithstanding, at this time, considerable territories. 'Herod, 
brother of king Agrippa the Great, died in the eighth year of the reign of Claudius. 
Claudius then gave his government to the young Agrippa.' (Jos. Ant. xx. p. 887.) 
This is the Agrippa mentioned in this twenty-fifth chapter. ' The twelfth year of 
his reign being completed, Claudius gave to Agrippa the tetrarchy of Philip and Ba- 
tanea, adding also Trachonitis with Abila. This had been the tetrarchy of Lysa- 
nias. But he took away from him Chalcis, after he had governed it four years.' 
(Jos. Ant. xx. p. 890, v. 25, &c.) ' After this, he sent Felix, the brother of Pallas, to 
be procurator of Judea, Galilee, Samaria, and Peraea ; and promoted Agrippa from 
Chalcis to a greater kingdom, giving him the tetrarchy Which had been Philip's. 
(This is Batanea, and Trachonitis, and Gaulonitis;; and he added, moreover, the 
kingdom of Lysanias, and the province that had been Varus's.' (Jos. de Bell. lib. ii. 
c. 12. fin.) ' Nero, in the first year of his reign, gave Agrippa a certain part of Gal- 
ilee, ordering Tiberias and Tarichaea to be subject to him. He gave him also Julias, 
a city of Peraea, and fourteen towns in the neighborhood of it.' (Ant. xx. c. 7. § 4.) 
St. Luke is therefore fully justified in styling this Agrippa king at this time." 
(Lardner's Credibility, 4to. Vol. I. pp. 17, 18.) [Williams's Pearson, p. 81, 82.] 

On the next day, preparations were made for this audience, 
with a solemnity of display most honorable to the subject of it. 
The great hall of the palace was arrayed in grand order for the 
occasion, and, in due time, king Agrippa, with his royal sister, 
and the Roman governor, entered it with great pomp, followed by 
a train composed of all the great military and civil dignitaries of 
the vice-imperial court of Palestine. Before all this stately ar- 



584 paul. 

ray, the apostolic prisoner was now set, and a solemn annunci- 
ation was made by Festus, of the circumstances of the prisoner's 
previous accusation, trial, and appeal ; all which were now sum- 
marily recapitulated in public, for the sake of form, although 
they had before been communicated in private, to Agnppa. The 
king, as the highest authority present, having graciously invited 
Paul to speak for himself, the apostle stretched forth his hand and 
began, in that respectful style of elaborately elegant compliment, 
which characterizes the exordiums of so many of his addresses 
to the great. After having, with most admirable skill, conciliated 
the attention and kind regard of the king, by expressing his hap- 
piness in being called to speak in his own defense before one so 
learned in Hebrew law, he went on ; and in a speech which is 
well known for its noble eloquence, so resplendent, even through 
the disguise of a quaint translation, presented not merely his own 
case, but the claims of that revelation, for proclaiming which he 
was now a prisoner. So admirably did he conduct his whole 
plea, both for himself and the cause of Christ, that in spite of 
the sneer of Festus, Agrippa paid him the very highest compli- 
ment in his power, and pronounced him to be utterly guiltless of 
the charges. No part of this plea and its attendant discussions, 
needs to be recapitulated ; but a single characteristic of Paul, 
which is most strikingly evinced, deserves especial notice. This 
is his profound regard for all the established forms of polite ad- 
dress. He is not satisfied with a mere respectful behavior towards 
his judges, but even distinguishes himself by a minute observ- 
ance of all the customary phrases of politeness ; nor does he 
suffer his courtly manner to be disturbed, even by the abrupt re- 
mark of Festus, accusing him of frenzy. In his reply, he styles 
his accuser " Most noble ;" and yet every reader of Jewish histo- 
ry knows, and Paul knew, that this Festus, to whom he gave this 
honorable title, was one of the very wicked men of those wick- 
ed times. The instance shows then, that those who, from reli- 
gious scruples, refuse to give the titles of established respect to 
those who are elevated in station, and reject all forms of genteel 
address, on the same ground, have certainly constructed their sys- 
tem of practical religion on a model wholly different from that by 
which the apostle's demeanor was guided ; and the whole impres- 
sion made on a common reader, by Luke's clear statement of Paul's 
behavior before the most dignified and splendid audience that he 
ever addressed, must be, that he was complete in all the forms and 



paitl.. 585 

observances of polite intercourse ; and he must be considered, 
both according: to the his;h standard of his refined and dignified 
hearers, and also by the universal standard of the refined of all 
ages, — not only a finished, eloquent orator, but a person of pol- 
ished manners, delicate tact, ready compliment, and graceful, 
courtly address : — in short, a perfect gentleman. 

VOYAGE TO ROME. 

As Paul, however, had previously appealed to Caesar, his case 
was already removed from any inferior jurisdiction, and his hear- 
ing before Agrippa was intended only to gratify the king himself, 
and to cause the particulars of his complicated case to be more 
fully drawn out before his royal hearer, who was so accomplished 
in Hebrew law, that his opinion was very naturally desired by 
Festus ; for, as the governor himself confessed, the technicalities 
and abstruse points involved in the charge, were altogether be- 
yond the comprehension of a Roman judge, with a mere heathen 
education. The object, therefore, of obtaining a full statement 
of particulars, to be presented to his most august majesty, the em- 
peror, being completely accomplished by this hearing of Paul be- 
fore Agrippa, — there was now nothing to delay the reference of 
the case to Nero ; and Paul was therefore consigned, along with 
other prisoners of state, to the care of a Roman officer, Julius, a 
centurion of the Augustan cohort. Taking passage at Caesarea, 
in an Adramyttian vessel, Julius sailed with his important charge 
from the shores of Palestine, late in the year 60. Following the 
usual cautious course of all ancient navigators, — along the shores, 
and from island to island, venturing across the open sea only 
with the fairest winds, — the vessel which bore the apostle on his 
first voyage to Italy, coasted along by Syria and Asia Minor. Of 
those Christian associates who accompanied Paul, none are known 
except Timothy, Luke, his graphically accurate historian, and 
Aristarchus of Thessalonica, the apostle's long-known compan- 
ion in travel. These, of course, were a source of great en- 
joyment to Paul on this tedious voyage, surrounded, as he was, 
otherwise, by strangers and heathen, by most of whom he must 
have been regarded in the light of a mere criminal, held in bonds 
for trial. He was, however, very fortunate in the character of 
the centurion to whose keeping he was entrusted, as is shown in 
more than one incident related by Luke. After one day's sail, 
the vessel touching at Sidon, Julius here politely gave Paul per- 
mission to visit his Christian friends in that place,— thus conferring 



5S6 PAUL. 

a great favor, both on the apostle and on the church of Sidon. 
Leaving this place, their course was next along the coast of 
Syria, and then eastwards, along the southern shore of Asia 
Minor, keeping in the Cilician strait between that province and 
the great island of Cyprus, on account of the violence of the 
southwesters. Coasting along by Pamphylia and Lycia, they 
next touched at Myra, a city in the latter province, where they 
were obliged to take passage in another vessel, bound from Alex- 
andria to Italy. In this vessel, they also kept close to the coast, 
their course being still retarded by head winds, until they reach- 
ed Cnidus, the farthest southeastern point of Asia Minor, and 
thence stretched across the Carpathian sea, to Crete, approaching 
it first at Cape Salmone, the most eastern point at the island, and 
then passing on to a place called " the Fair Haven," near Lasea, 
probably one of the hundred cities of Crete, but mentioned in no 
other ancient writer. At this place, Paul, whose experience in 
former voyages was already considerable, having been twice ship- 
wrecked, had sagacity enough to see that any further navigation 
that season would be dangerous ; for it was now the beginning of 
October, and the most dreadful tempests might be reasonably 
expected on the wintry sea, before they could reach the Italian 
coast. He warned the centurion accordingly, of the peril to 
which all their lives were exposed ; but the owner and commander 
of the vessel, anxious to find a better place for wintering than 
this, persuaded Julius to risk the passage to the south side of the 
island, when they might find, in the port of Phoenix, a more con- 
venient winter harbor. So, after the south wind had nearly died 
away, they attempted to take advantage of this apparent lull, and 
work their way, close to the shore along the south side of Crete ; 
but presently they were caught by a tremendous Levanter, which 
carried them with great velocity away to the west, to the island 
of Clan da, which lies south of the west end of Crete. Here the 
danger of the ship's breaking in pieces was so great, that having 
with much ado overhauled their boat, they undergirded the ship 
with cables, to keep it together, — a measure not unknown in mod- 
ern navigation. Finding that they were in much danger of 
grounding among the quicksands on the coast of the island, they 
were glad to stand out to sea ; and taking in all sail, scudded un- 
der bare poles for fourteen days, during a great part of which 
time, they saw neither sun, moon nor stars, the whole sky being 
constantly overcast with clouds, so that they knew nothing of 



paul. 587 

their position. The wind of course carried them directly west, 
over what was then called the sea of Adria, — not what is now 
called the Adriatic gulf, but that part of the Mediterranean, which 
lies between Greece, Italy and Africa. In their desperation, the 
passengers threw over their own baggage, to lighten the ship : and 
they began to lose all hope of being saved from shipwreck. Paul, 
however, encouraged them by the narration of a dream, in which 
God had revealed to him that every one of them should escape ; 
and they still kept their hopes alive to the fourteenth night, when 
the sailors, thinking that the long western course must have 
brought them near Sicily, or the main-land of Italy, which lay 
not far out of this direction, began to heave the lead, that they 
might avoid the shore ; and at the first sounding, found but 
twenty fathoms, and at the next fifteen. Of course, the peril of 
grounding was imminent, and they therefore cast anchor, and 
waited for day. Knowing that they were now near some shore, 
the sailors determined to provide for their own safety, and accord- 
ingly undertook to let down the boat, to make their escape, and 
leave the passengers to provide for themselves. But Paul repre- 
sented to the centurion the certainty of their destruction, if the 
ship should be left without any seamen to manage it ; and the sol- 
diers of the prisoners' guard, determined not to be thus deserted, 
though they should all sink together, cut off the ropes by which 
the boat was held, and let it fall off. All being thus inevitably 
committed to one doom, Paul exhorted them to take food, and 
thus strengthen themselves for the effort to reach the shore. They 
did so accordingly, and then, as a last resort, flung out the wheat 
with which the ship was loaded, and at day-break, when land ap- 
peared, seeing a small creek, they made an effort to run the ship 
into it, weighing anchor and hoisting the mainsail ; but knowing 
nothing, of the ground, soon struck, and the overstrained ship was 
immediately broken by the waves, the bows being fast in the sand- 
bank, while the stern was heaved by every surge. The soldiers, 
thinking first of their weighty charge, for whose escape they 
were to answer with their lives, advised to kill them all, lest they 
should swim ashore. But the more humane centurion forbade it, 
and gave directions that every man should provide for his own 
safety. They did so ; and those that could not swim, clinging to 
the fragments of the wreck, the whole two hundred and seventy- 
six who were in the vessel, got safe to land. 



588 paul, 

'"When sailing was now dangerous, because the fast was already past.' ver. 9. 
There is no question but that this is the great fast of expiation, Lev. xvi. 29, the de- 
scription of which we hav r e in Isa. lviii. under the name of a sabbath, ver. 13. The 
precise time of this sabbatic fast is on the tenth day of the seventh month, Tizri, 
which falls on the same time very nearly with our September, the first day of Tizri 
on the seventh of that, and so the 10th of Tizri on the 16th of September, that is, 
thirteen days before our Michaelmas. This being premised, the apostle's reasoning 
becomes clear; for it is precisely the same as though he should have said, because it 
was past the twentieth (the day Scaliger sets for the solemnization of the fast,) of Sep- 
tember ; it being observed by all sailors, that for some weeks before and after 'Mich- 
aelmas, there are on the sea sudden and frequent storms, (probably the equinoctial,) 
which have in modern times received the name of Michaelmas flaws, and must of 
course make sailing dangerous. Hesiod himself tells us, that at the going down of 
Pleiades, which was at the end of autumn, navigation was hazardous." (Williams.) 

" ' Undxr girding the ship.' ver. 17. We learn from various passages in the Greek 
and Roman writers, that the ancients had recourse to this expedient, in order to save 
the ship from imminent danger ; and this method has been used in modern times. 
The process of undergirding a ship is thus performed : — a stout cable is slipped un- 
der the vessel at the prow, which can be conducted to any part x)f the ship's keel, and 
then fasten the two ends on the deck, to keep the planks from starting. An instance 
of this kind is mentioned in ' Lord Anson's Voyage round the World.' Speaking of 
a Spanish man-of-war in a storm, the writer says, ' They were obliged to throw over- 
board all their upper-deck guns, and take six turns of the cable round the ship, to pre- 
vent her opening? (p. 24, 4to. edit.) Bp. Pearce and Dr. Clarke, on Acts xxvii. 17. 
Two instances of undergirding the ship are noticed in the 'Chevalier de Johnstone's 
Memoirs of the Rebellion in 1745 — 6, London, 1822, 8vo. pp, 421, 454." (Will- 
iams's notes on Pearson, p. 85.) 

They now found that they had struck on the island of Melita, 
(now Malta,) which lies just south of Sicily, in the direct track in 
which the eastern gale must have blown them. The uncivilized 
inhabitants of this desolate spot received the shipwrecked voy- 
agers with the kindest attention, and very considerately kindled 
a tire, to warm and dry them, after their long soaking in cold 
water. The dripping apostle took hold with the rest to make the 
fire blaze up, and gathered a bundle of dry sticks, for the purpose ; 
but with them he unconsciously gathered a viper, which was shel- 
tering itself among them from the cold, and roused by the heat 
of the fire, now crept out upon his hand. He, of course, as any 
other man would, gave a jerk, and shook it off, as soon as he 
saw it ? — a very natural occurrence ; but the superstitious barba- 
rians thought this a perfect miracle, as they had before foolishly 
considered it a token of divine wrath ; and having looked on him 
as an object of horror, and a wicked criminal, they now, with 
equal sense, adored him as a God. 

Another incident of more truly miraculous character, occurred 
to Paul soon after, in the part of the island on which they were 
wrecked, which had the effect of gaining him a much more solid 
fame. The father of Publius, the Roman officer who governed 
the island, as the deputy of the praetor of Sicily, was at that time 
very sick of the dysentery ; and Paul, going to see him, laid his 



paul. 589 

hands on him and prayed, — thus effecting a complete recovery. 
This being known, other diseased persons were presented as the 
subjects of Paul's miraculous powers, and the same cures follow- 
ing his words, he with his associates soon became the objects of 
a far more rational reverence than had been excited by the deliv- 
erance from the viper. The reverence too, was extended beyond 
mere empty honor. The shipwrecked apostolic company having 
lost all their baggage and provisions, were abundantly provided 
with everything that they needed, by the grateful contributions 
of the islanders ; — and when, after a stay of three months, Paul 
and his companions departed, they were loaded with things ne- 
cessary for the voyage. 

Sailing, on the return of spring, in another Alexandrine vessel, 
of the same very common name borne by that in which they were 
shipwrecked, they came next to Syracuse, on the east side of the 
island of Sicily, and after a stay of three days, turned through the 
Sicilian strait to Rhegium, on the main-land directly opposite the 
island. There Paul first saw the soil of Italy, but did not leave 
the vessel for his laud journey, till they came, with a fresh south 
wind, to Puteoli, a port in the bay of Naples. Here they found 
Christians, who invited them to rest among them for a week ; af- 
ter which they journeyed along the coast, on the noble road of 
Pozzuoli and Baiae, for about a hundred miles, to Appius's Fo- 
rum, a village about eighteen miles from Rome. At this place, they 
were met by a number of brethren from the church of Rome ; 
and having journeyed along the Appian way, to the Three Tav- 
erns, — a little stopping-place a few miles from the city, — they were 
received by still another deputation of Roman Christians, come 
out to greet the great apostle, whose name had long been known 
among them, and whose counsels and revelations they had already 
enjoyed by his writings. This noble testimony of the esteem in 
which they held him, was a most joyful assurance to Paul, that, 
even on this foreign shore, a stranger and a prisoner, he had 
many near and dear friends ; and his noble spirit, before probably 
depressed and melancholy, in the dark prospect of his approach to 
the awful seat of that remorseless imperial power that was to de- 
cide his doom, now rose to feelings of exultation and gratitude. 
Entering the vast imperial city, the prisoners were remanded by 
the centurion to the custody of Burrhus, the noble and influential 
praefect of the praetorian guard, who was, ex-officio, the keeper 
of all prisoners of state, brought from the provinces to Rome. 

75 



590 



PAUL. 



Burrhus however, was as kind and accommodating to Paul as 
Julius had been, and allowed him to live by himself in a private 
house, w T ith only a soldier as an attendant guard. 

After three days, Paul invited to his lodgings the chief men of 
the Jewish faith, in Rome, and made known to them the circum- 
stances under which he had been sent thither, and his present re- 
lations to the heads of their religion in Jerusalem. In reply, they 
merely stated that they had received no formal communications 
respecting him, from Jerusalem, nor had those of their brethren 
who had arrived from Judea spoken ill of him. They expressed 
also a great desire to hear from him the peculiar doctrine, for en- 
tertaining which he had been thus denounced, of which they pro- 
fessed to know nothing, but that there was a universal prejudice 
against it. A day was accordingly appointed for a full confer- 
ence on these very important subjects, — and at the set time, Paul, 
with no small willingness, discoursed at great length on his views 
of the accomplishment of all the ancient prophecies respecting the 
Messiah, in the life and death of Jesus of Nazareth. His hearers 
were very much divided in opinion about these points, after his 
discourse was over, — some believing and some disbelieving. Leav- 
ing them to meditate on what he had said, Paul dismissed them 
with a warning quotation from Isaiah, against their prejudices, 
and sternly reminded them, that though they did reject the truth, 
the waiting Gentiles were prepared to embrace it. and should re- 
ceive the word of God immediately. They then left him, and 
made his words a subject of much discussion among themselves ; 
but the results are unrecorded. Paul having hired a house in 
Rome, made that city the scene of his active labors for two whole 
years, receiving ail that called to inquire into religious truth, and 
proclaiming the doctrines of Christianity with the most unhesita- 
ting boldness and freedom ; and no man in Rome could molest him 
in making known his belief to as many as chose to hear him ; 
for it was not till many years after, that the Christians were de- 
nounced and persecuted by Nero. 

HIS EPISTLES WRITTEN FROM ROME. 

With these facts the noble narrative of Luke ceases entirely, 
and henceforth no means are left of ascertaining the events of Paul's 
life, except in those incidental allusions which his subsequent wri- 
tings make to his circumstances. Those epistles which are cer- 
tainly known and universally agreed to have been written from 
Rome during this imprisonment, are those to the Philippians, the 



PAUL. 591 

Ephesians, the Colossians, and to Philemon. There are passages 
in all these which imply that he was then near the close of his 
imprisonment, for he speaks with great confidence of being able 
to visit them shortly, and very particularly requests preparation to 
be made for his accommodation on his arrival. 

There is good reason to think that the epistles to the Ephe- 
sians, to the Oolossians, and to Philemon, were written about the 
same time and were sent together. This appears from the fact, 
that Tychicus is spoken of in both the two former, as sent by the 
apostle, to make known to them all his circumstances more fully, 
and is also implied as the bearer of both, while Onesimus, the 
bearer of the latter, is also mentioned in the epistle to the Colos- 
sians as accompanying Tychicus. 

THE EPISTLE TO THE EPHESIANS. 

The most important question which has been raised concern- 
ing this epistle, regards the point, whether it was truly directed 
and sent by Paul, to the church in Ephesus, as the common read- 
ing distinctly specifies. Many eminent modern critics have main- 
tained that it was originally sent to the church in Laodicea, and 
that the word Ephesus, in the direction and in the first verse, is 
a change made in later times, by those who felt interested to 
claim for this city the honor of an apostolic epistle. Others in- 
cline to the opinion, that it was directed to no particular church, 
but was sent as a circular to several churches in Asia Minor, 
among which were those of Ephesus and Laodicea, and that sev- 
eral copies were sent at the same time, each copy being differently 
directed. They suppose that when the epistles of Paul were 
first collected, that copy which was sent to Ephesus was the one 
adopted for this, and that the original manuscript being soon lost, 
all written trace of its original general direction disappeared also. 

The prominent reason for this remarkable supposition, unsup- 
ported as it is by the authority of any ancient manuscript, is that 
Paul writes apparently with no local reference whatever to the 
circumstances of the Ephesians, among whom he had lived for 
three years, although his other epistles to places which he had visited 
are so full of personal and local matters ; and that he speaks oc 
the contrary as though he knew little of them except by hearsay. 
A reference to the particular details of the reasoning by which 
this opinion is supported, would altogether transcend the proper 
limits of this work ; since even a summary of them fills a great 
many pages of those critical and exegetical works, to which these 



592 



PAUL. 



discussions properly belong; and all which can be stated here is 
the general result, that a great weight of authority favors the view 
that this was probably a circular epistle ; but the whole argument 
in favor of either notion, rests on so slight a foundation, that it is 
not worth while to disturb the common impression for it. 

The epistle certainly does not seem to dwell on any local diffi- 
culties, but enlarges eloquently upon general topics, showing the 
holy watchfulness of the apostle over the faith of his readers. 
He appears, nevertheless, to emphasize with remarkable force, the 
doctrines that Christ alone was the source and means of salva- 
tion, " the chief corner-stone," and that in him all are united, 
both Jews and Gentiles, in one holy temple. There is something 
in many such passages, with which the epistle abounds, that seems 
peculiarly well fitted to the circumstances of mixed communities, 
made up of Jews and Gentiles, and as if the apostle wished to prevent 
the former from creating any distinctions in the church, in their 
own favor. Many passages in this epistle also, are very pointedly 
opposed to those heresies, which about that period were beginning to 
rise up in those regions, and were afterwards famous under the 
name of the Gnosis, — the first distinct sect that is known to have 
perverted the purity of Christian truth. Paul here aims with re- 
markable energy, to prove that salvation was to be attributed to 
Christ alone, and not to the intervention of any other superior 
beings, by whatever names they are called, whether principalities, 
or powers, or might or dominion, both in this world and the world 
to come, — in heavenly places as well as earthly. The apostle also 
is very full in the moral and practical part, — urging with great par- 
ticularity the observance of those virtues which are the essentials 
of the Christian character, and specifying to each particular age, 
sex, rank and condition, its own peculiar duties. 

THE EPISTLE TO THE COLOSSIANS. 

In the first verse of the second chapter, the apostle expresses a 
peculiar anxiety for the spiritual safety of those Christians who 
have not seen his face in the flesh, among whom he appears to 
number the Colossians and Laodiceans. It seems quite evident 
that he had never been at Colosse ; for though he traversed Phry- 
gia, on two several occasions before this time, he is not said to 
have visited either Colosse or Laodicea ; — but his route is so de- 
scribed, as to make it almost impossible for him to have taken 
either city directly in his way. This circumstance may account 
for the fact of his distinguishing in this manner a single city like 



paul. 593 

Colosse, of no great size or importance; because as it appears from 
the general tenor of the epistle, certain peculiar errors had arisen 
among them, which were probably more dangerously rife, from 
the circumstance of their never having been blessed by the person- 
al presence and labors of an apostle. The errors which he par- 
ticularly attacks, seem to be those of the Judaizers, who were con- 
stantly insisting on the necessity of Mosaical observances, such as 
circumcision, sabbaths, abstinence from unclean meats, and other 
things of the same sort. He cautions them particularly against 
certain false doctrine?, also referred to under the names of 
philosophy, vain deceit, the traditions of men, &c. which are com- 
monly thought to refer to the errors of the Essenes, a Jewish sect 
characterized by Josephus in terms somewhat, similar, and who 
are supposed to have introduced their ascetic and mystical doc- 
trines into the Christian church, and to have formed one of the 
sources of the great system of Gnosticism, as afterwards perfected. 
The moral part of this epistle bears a very striking similarity, 
even in words, to the conclusion of that to the Ephesians, — a re- 
semblance probably attributable in part, to the circumstance, that 
they were written about the same time. The circumstance that 
he has mentioned to the Colossians an epistle to be sent for by 
them from Laodicea, has given rise to a forged production, pur- 
porting to be this very epistle from Paul to the Laodiceans ; but 
it is manifestly a mere brief rhapsody, collected from Paul's other 
epistles, and has never for a moment imposed upon the critical. 
It has been supposed that the true epistle meant by Paul, is anoth- 
er, now lost, written by Paul to Laodicea ; and the supposition is 
not unreasonable. 

THE EPISTLE TO PHILEMON. 

This was merely a private letter from Paul to a person other- 
wise not known, but appearing, from the terms in which he is 
herein mentioned, to have been at some time or other associated 
with Paul in the gospel work ; since he styles him " fellow-la- 
borer." He appears to have been a man of some property and 
generosity, because he had a house spacious enough to hold a 
worshiping assembly, who were freely accommodated by him ; 
and he is likewise mentioned as hospitably entertaining traveling 
Christians. The possession of some wealth is also implied in the 
circumstance which is the occasion of this epistle. Like almost 
all Christians of that age who were able to do so, he owned at least 
one slave, by name Onesimus, who had run away from him to 



504 



PAUL. 



Rome, and there falling under the notice of Paul, was made the 
subject of his personal attentions, and was at last converted by 
him to the Christian faith. Paul now sends him back to his old 
master, with this letter, in which he narrates the circumstances 
connected with the flight and conversion of Onesimus, and then 
with great earnestness, yet with mildness, entreats Philemon to 
receive him now, not as a slave, but as a brother, — to forgive him 
his offenses, and restore him to favor. Paul himself offers to be- 
come personally responsible for all pecuniary loss experienced by 
Philemon in consequence of the absence of his servant in Rome, 
where he had been ministering to Paul ; and the apostle gives his 
his own note of hand for any reasonable amount which Philemon 
may choose to claim. Throughout the whole, he speaks in great 
confidence of the ready compliance of Philemon with these re- 
quests, and evidently considers him a most intimate friend, loving 
and beloved. He also speaks with great confidence of his own 
speedy release from his bonds, and begs Philemon to prepare 
him a lodging ; for he trusts that through his prayers, he shall 
shortly be given to him. 

THE EPISTLE TO THE PHILIPPIANS. 

That this was written after the others that were sent from 
Rome by Paul during this imprisonment, is proved by several cir- 
cumstances. Luke was certainly with him when he wrote to the 
Colossians and to Philemon ; but no mention whatever is made 
of him in the epistle to the Philippians, who would, nevertheless, 
feel as much interest in him as in Timothy or any companion of 
Paul ; because he had resided in Philippi many years, and must 
have had many acquaintances there, who would expect some ac- 
count of him, and some salutation from him. Paul, moreover, 
says, that he trusts to send Timothy shortly to them, because he 
has no man with him who is like minded, or who will care for 
their state ; — a remark which, if Luke had been with him, he 
could not have made with any justice to that faithful and diligent 
associate, who was himself a personal acquaintance of the Phi- 
lippians. There were some circumstances connected with the sit- 
uation of Paul, as referred to in this epistle, which seem to imply 
a different date from those epistles just mentioned. His condi- 
tion seems improved in many respects, although before not un- 
comfortable, and his expectations of release still more confident, 
though before so strong. He speaks also of a new and remark- 
able field in which his preaching had been successful, and that is, 



paul. 595 

the palace of the imperial Caesar himself, among whose house- 
hold attendants were many now numbered among the saints who 
sent salutations to Philippi. The terms in which he mentions 
his approaching release, are still more remarkable than those in 
the former epistles. He says — " Having this confidence, I know 
that I shall abide and continue with you all," &c. " that your re- 
joicing may be more abundant, by my corning to you again." "I 
trust in the Lord that I shall myself also come shortly." 

The immediate occasion of this epistle was the return of 
Epaphroditus, the apostle or messenger of the Philippian church, 
by whom Paul now wrote this, as a grateful acknowledgment of 
their generosity in contributing to his support that money, of 
which Epaphroditus was the bearer. In the epistle, he also took 
occasion, after giving them an account of his life in Rome, to 
warn them against the errors of the Judaizers, whose doctrines 
were the occasion of so much difficulty in the Christian churches. 

THE EPISTLE TO THE HEBREWS. 

The release which Paul so confidently anticipated, probably 
happened shortly after the writing of the last epistle, and at this 
time, just before leaving Italy for another field of labor, it is com- 
monly believed that he wrote his epistle to the Hebrews. Of 
the particular place, the time, the immediate object, and the per- 
sons who were the receivers of this epistle, nothing is with any 
certainty known ; and the whole range of statements in standard 
works of exegetical and critical theology, on this writing, is the 
most appalling mass of vague speculations, unfounded conclu- 
sions and contradictory assertions, that presents itself to the histo- 
rian of the apostolic works in any direction ; and in respect to 
all these points, referring the critical to any or all of the thousand 
and one views, given in the learned and elaborate introductions 
and commentaries, which alone can with any justice so much as 
open the subject, the author excuses himself entirely from any 
discussion of this endless question, in the words used on one of 
these points, by one of the most learned, acute, ingenious and cau- 
tious critics of modern times. "Any thing further on this subject 
I am unable to determine, and candidly confess my ignorance as 
to the place where the epistle to the Hebrews was written. Nor 
do I envy any man who pretends to know more on this subject, 
unless he has discovered sources of intelligence, which have hith- 
erto remained unknown. It is better to leave a question in a 



596 Paul. 

state of uncertainty, than, without foundation, to adopt an opin- 
ion which may lead to material errors." 

VOYAGE TO THE EAST. 

On leaving- Italy after this release, he seems to have directed 
his course eastward ; but nothing whatever is known of his mo- 
tions, except that from the epistle of Titus it is learned that he 
journeyed to Miletus, to Ephesus, to Troas, to Macedonia, to Crete 
and to Epirus, — and last of all, probably, to Rome. His first 
movements on his release were, doubtless, in conformity with his 
previous designs, as expressed in his epistles. He probably went 
first to Asia, visiting Ephesas, Miletus, Colosse, &c. On this 
voyage he might have left Titus in Crete, (as specified in his let- 
ter to that minister,) and on embarking for Macedonia, left Tim- 
othy at Ephesus, (as mentioned in the first epistle to him.) After 
visiting Philippi and other places in Macedonia, where he wrote 
to Timothy, he seems to have crossed over the country to the 
shore of the Ionian sea, to Nicopolis, whence he wrote to Titus, to 
come from Crete, and join him there. These two epistles, be- 
ing of a merely personal character, containing instructions for 
the exercise of the apostolic functions of ordination, &c. in the 
absence of Paul, can not need any particular historical notice, be- 
ing so simple in their object that they sufficiently explain them- 
selves. Respecting that to Timothy, however, it may be specified 
that some of its peculiar expressions seem to be aimed at the 
rising heresy of the Jewish and Oriental mystics, who were then 
infecting the eastern churches with the first beginnings of that 
heresy which, under the name of the Gnosis, or science, (falsely 
so called,) soon after corrupted with its dogmas, a vast number 
in Asia Minor, Greece and Syria. The style and tenor of both 
of the epistles are so different from all Paul's other writings, as to 
make it very evident that they were written at a different time, 
and under very different circumstances from the rest. 

RETURN TO ROME. 

The only real evidence of this movement of Paul is found in 
the tenor of certain passages in the second epistle to Timothy, 
which seem to show that it was written during the author's impris- 
onment in Rome, but which cannot be connected with his former 
confinement there. In the former epistles written from Rome, Tim- 
othy was with Paul : — but this of course implies that he was absent. 
In them, Demas is declared to be with Paul ; — in this he is men- 
tioned as having forsaken him, and gone to Thessalonica. In 



paul. 597 

the first epistle to Timothy, Mark was also with Paul, and joined 
in saluting the Colossians ; in this, Timothy is instructed to bring 
him to Paul, because he is profitable to him in the ministry. In 
the fourth chapter, Paul says that " Erastus abode at Corinth ;" — 
an expression which implies that Erastus abode in Corinth when 
Paul left it. But Paul took no journey from Corinth before his 
first imprisonment ; for when he left that place for the last time 
before his journey to Jerusalem, — when he was seized and sent to 
Home, — he was accompanied by Timothy ; and there could there- 
fore be no need of informing him of that fact. In the same pas- 
sage of this epistle he also says, that he had left Trophimus sick 
at Miletus ; but when Paul passed through Miletus, on that jour- 
ney to Jerusalem, Trophimus certainly was not left behind at Mi- 
letus, but accompanied him to Jerusalem ; for he was seen there 
with him by the Asian Jews. These two passages therefore, refer 
to a journey taken subsequent to Paul's first imprisonment, — and 
the epistle which refers to them, and purports in other passages to 
have been written during an imprisonment in Rome, shows that 
he returned thither after his first imprisonment. 

The most striking passage in this epistle also refers with great 
distinctness to his expectation of being very speedily removed from 
apostolic labors to an eternal apostolic reward. " I am now ready 
to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand. I have 
fought the good fight ; I have finished my course ; I have kept 
the faith: henceforth, there is laid up for me a crown of life, 
which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day." 
All these expressions are utterly at variance with those hopes of 
release and of the speedy renewal of his labors in an eastern 
field ; and show very plainly that all the tasks to which he once 
looked forward were now completed, and that he could hope for 
no deliverance, but that which should call him from chains and 
toils to an eternal crown. 

HIS DEATH. 

The circumstance of his being again in Rome a prisoner, after 
having been once set free by the mandate of the emperor himself, 
after a full hearing, must at once require a reference to a state of 
things, in which Paul's religious profession and evangelizing la- 
bors, before esteemed so blameless that no man in Rome forbade 
him to preach the gospel there, — had now, by a mighty revolution 
in opinions, become a crime, since for these, he was now held 
in bondage, without the possibility of escape from the threatened 

76 



59 S PAUL, 

death. Such a change actually did occur in the latter part of the 
reign of Nero, when, as already related in the history of Peter's 
first epistle, the whole power of the imperial government was 
turned against the Christians, as a sect, and they were convicted 
on that accusation alone, as deserving of death. The date of 
this revolution in the condition of the Christians, is fixed by Ro- 
man history in the sixty-fourth year of Christ ; and the time when 
Paul was cast into chains the second time, must therefore be re- 
ferred to this year. His actual death evidently did not take place 
at once, but was deferred long enough to allow of his writing to 
Timothy, and for him to make some arrangements therein, for a 
short continuance of his labors. The date which is commonly 
fixed as the time of his execution, is in the year of Christ 65 ; but 
in truth, nothing whatever is known about it, nor can even a pro- 
bability be confidently affirmed on the subject. Being a Roman 
citizen, he could not die by a mode so infamous as that of the 
cross, but was beheaded, as a more honorable exit ; and with this 
view, the testimony of most of the early Fathers, who particularize 
his death, distinctly accords. 

Of the various fictions which the monkish story-tellers have invented to gratify 
the curiosity which Christian readers feel about other particulars of the apostle's cha- 
racter, the following is an amusing specimen. " Paul, if we may believe Nicephorus, 
was of a low and small stature, somewhat stooping; his complexion fair; his counte- 
nance grave; his head small; his eyes sparkling; his nose high and bending; and 
his hair thick and dark, but mixed with gray. His constitution was weak, and often 
subject to distempers; but his mind was strong, and endued with a solid judgment, 
quick invention, and prompt memory, which were all improved by art, and the ad- 
vantages of a liberal education. Besides the epistles which are owned to be genuine, 
several other writings are falsely ascribed to him : as an epistle to the Laodiceans, a 
third to the Thessalonians, a third to the Corinthians, a second to the Ephesians, his 
letter to Seneca, his Acts, his Revelation, his voyage to Thecla, and his Sermons." 
(Cave's Laves of the Apostles.) 

But the honors and saintship of Paul are recorded, not in the 
rogue and misty traces of bloody martyr-death, but in the far 
more glorious achievements of a heroic life. In these, are con- 
tained the essence of his greatness ; to these, all the Gentile 
world owes its salvation ; and on these, the modern historian, fol- 
lowing the model of the sacred writers, dwells with far more mi- 
nuteness and particularity, than on a dull mass of uncertain tra- 
dition. 



JOSEPH BARNABAS. 



Op this apostle, so few circumstances are known, that are not 
inseparably connected with the life of Paul, in which they have 
been already recorded, that only a very brief space can be occu- 
pied with the events of his" distinct life. The first passage in 
which he is mentioned, is that in the fourth chapter of Acts, 
where he is specified as having distinguished himself among 
those who sold their lands, for the sake of appropriating the 
avails to the support of the Christian community. Introduced 
to the notice of the reader under these most honorable circumstan- 
ces, he is there described as of the tribe of Levi, and yet a resi- 
dent in the island of Cyprus, where he seems to have held the 
land which he sacrificed to the purposes of religious charity. 
This island was for a long time, before and after that period, in- 
habited by great numbers of wealthy Jews, and there was hardly 
any part of the world, where they were so powerful and so fa- 
vored, as in Cyprus ; so that even the sacred order of the Levites 
might well find inducements to leave that consecrated soil to 
which they were more especially attached by the peculiar ordi- 
nances of the Mosaic institutions, and seek on this beautiful and 
fertile island, a new home, and a new seat for the faith of their 
lathers. The occasion on which Joseph (for that was his origin- 
al name) left Cyprus to visit Jerusalem, is not known ; nor can 
it even be determined whether he was ever himself a personal 
hearer of Jesus. He may very possibly have been one of the 
foreign Jews present at the Pentecost, and may there have been 
first converted to the Christian faith. On his distino-uishino' 
himself among his new brethren, both by good words and gene- 
rous deeds, he was honored by the apostles with the name of Bar- 
nabas, which is interpreted in Greek by words that may mean 
either "son of consolation," or "son of exhortation." The for- 



600 JOSEPH BARNABAS. 

mer sense, of course, would aptly refer to his generosity in com- 
forting the poor apostolic community, by his pecuniary contribu- 
tions, as just before mentioned ; and this has induced many to 
prefer that meaning ; but the majority of critical translators and 
commentators have been led, on a careful investigation both of 
the original Hebrew word and of the Greek translation of it, to 
prefer the meaning of u son of exhortation" or " instruction" a 
meaning which certainly well accords with the subsequent dis- 
tinction attained by him in his apostolic labors. Both senses may, 
however, have been referred to, with an intentional equivoque. 

" Acts, ch. iv. ver. 37. virdpxovTog airy aypov. He could not have sold that which 
was his paternal inheritance as a Levite ; but this might perhaps be some legacy, or 
purchase of land in Judea, to which he might have a title till the next jubilee, or 
perhaps some land in Cyprus. (Doddridge.) That it was lawful for the Levites to 
buy land, we learn from the example of Jeremiah himself, who was of the tribe of 
Levi. See Jer. xxxii. 17. It is observed by Bp. Pearce, that those, commentators 
who contend that this land must have belonged to his wife, because, according to the 
law mentioned in Numb, xviii. 20, 23 and 24, a Levite couldhave no inheritance in Is- 
rael, seem to have mistaken the sense of that law, ' which,' says he, ' means only 
that the Levites, as a tribe, were not to have a shai'e in the division of Canaan, 
among the other tribes. This did not hinder any Levite from possessing lands in 
Judea, either by purchase or by gift, as well as in right of his wife. Josephus was a 
Levite, and a priest too ; and yet in his Life, ch. 76, he speaks of lands which he had 
lying about Jerusalem, and in exchange of which, Vespasian gave him others, for his 
greater benefit and advantage. After all, I see no reason why we may not suppose 
that this land, which Barnabas had and sold, was not land in Judea; and if so, the 
words of the law, 'no inheritance in Israel,' did not, however understood, affect 
their case. His land might have been in his own country, Cyprus, an island of no 
great distance from Judea ; and he might have sold it at Jerusalem to some pur- 
chaser there ; perhaps to one of his own countrymen.' " (Bloomfield's Annot. Vol. 
IV. pp. 147, 148.) 

In all the other passages of the New Testament, in winch he 
is mentioned, he is associated with Paul, and every recorded act 
of his life has been already given in the life of his great associ- 
ate. His first acquaintance with him on his return to Jerusalem 
after his conversion. — his mission to Antioch and labors there in 
conjunction with Paul, when he had brought him from Tarsus, — 
their visit to Jerusalem, — their return to Antioch, — their first 
great mission through Asia Minor — their visit to Jerusalem at, 
the council, and their joint report, — their second return to Anti- 
och, — their proposed association in a new mission,— their quar- 
rel and separation, — have all been fully detailed ; nor is there any 
authentic source from which any facts can be derived, as to the 
subsequent incidents of his life. All that is related of him in 
the Acts, is, that after his separation from Paul, he sailed to Cy- 
prus ; nor is any mention made, in any of the epistles, of his sub- 
sequent life. The time and place of his death are also unknown. 



JOHN MARK, 



Op the family and birth of this eminent apostolic associate, it 
is recorded in the New Testament, that his mother was named 
Mary, and had a house in Jerusalem, which was a regular place 
of religious assembly, for the Christians in that city ; for Peter 
on his deliverance from prison, went directly thither, as though 
sure of rinding there some of the brethren ; and he actually did 
find a number of them assembled for prayer. Of the other con- 
nections of Mark, the interesting fact is recorded, that Mary, his 
mother, was the sister of Barnabas ; and he was therefore by the 
maternal line, at least, of Levite descent. From the mode in 
which Mary is mentioned, it would seem that her husband was 
dead at that time ; but nothing else can be inferred about the 
father of Mark. The first event in which he is distinctly men- 
tioned as concerned, is the return of Paul and Barnabas from 
Jerusalem to Antioch, after Peter's escape. These two apostles^ 
on this occasion, are said to have " taken with them, John whose 
surname was Mark ;" and he is afterwards mentioned under either 
of these names, or both together. The former was his original 
appellation ; but being exceedingly common among the Jews, and 
being, moreover, borne by one of the apostles, it required another 
distinctive word to be joined with it. It is remarkable that a Ro- 
man, heathen appellation, was chosen for this purpose ; — Marcus, 
which is the true form in the original, being a name of purely 
Latin origin, and one of the commonest praenomens among the 
Romans. It might have been the name of some person connect- 
ed with the Roman government in Jerusalem, who had distin- 
guished himself as a friend or patron of the family : but the con- 
jecture is hardly worth offering. 

After returning with Paul and Barnabas to Antioch, he was 
next called to accompany them as an assistant in their apostolic 



602 JOMlv MARK. 

voyage through Cyprus and Asia Minor ; but on their coming to 
Perga, in Pamphylia, he suddenly left them and returned to Jeru- 
salem ; — a change of purpose which was considered, by Paul at 
least, as resulting from a want of resolution, steadiness, or cour- 
age, and was the occasion of a very serious difficulty ; for Mark 
having returned to Antioch afterwards, was taken by Barna- 
bas, as a proper associate on the proposed mission over the former 
fields of labor; but Paul utterly rejected him, because he had al- 
ready, on the same route, once deserted them, when they needed 
his services, and he therefore refused to go in his company again. 
This difference was the occasion of that unhappy contention, the 
incidents of which have already been particularly detailed in the 
Life of Paul. Mark however, being resolutely supported by his 
uncle, accompanied him to Cyprus ; but of his next movement, as 
little is known as in respect to Barnabas. The next occasion on 
which his name is mentioned, is by Paul, in his epistles to the Co- 
lossians and to Philemon, as being then with him in Rome ; from 
which it appears, the great apostle had now for a long time been 
reconciled to him, and esteemed him as a valuable associate in 
the ministry. He is not mentioned in the epistle to the Philippi- 
ans, which therefore makes it probable that he had then gone to 
the east. In the second epistle to Timothy, Paul requests that 
Mark may be sent to him, because he is profitable to him for the 
ministry ; which is a most abundant testimony to his merits, and 
to the re-establishment of Paul's confidence in his zeal, resolution, 
and ability. Whether he was actually sent to Rome as requested, 
does not appear ; — but he is afterwards distinctly mentioned by 
Peter, in that, epistle which he wrote from Babylon, as being then 
with him. The title of " son," which Peter gives him, seems to 
imply a very near and familiar intimacy between them; and is 
probably connected with the circumstance of his being made the 
subject of the chief apostle's particular religious instructions in 
his youth, in consequence of the frequent meetings of the breth- 
ren at the house of his mother, Mary. This passage is sufficient 
evidence that after Mark had finally left Rome, he journeyed east- 
ward and joined Peter, his venerable first instructor, who, as has 
already been abundantly shown in his Life, was at this time in 
Babylon, whence, in the year 65, he wrote his first epistle. 

" It is thought by Benson that Mark departed because his presence was required 
by the apostles for converting the Jews of Palestiae. But why then should Paul 
have expressed indignation at his departure 1 The same objection will apply to the 
conjecture of others, that he departed on account of ill-health. The most probable 



JOHN MARK. 003 

opinion is that of Grotius, Wetstein, Bengel, Heumann, and others, that Mark was, 
at that time, somewhat averse to labors and dangers; this, indeed, is clear from the 
words, Kal pn avvtKddvra avroHs &h t6 epyov. Thus acpiorriiu is used of defection in Luke 
viii. 13. 1 Tim. iv. 1. It should seem that Mark had now repented of his incon- 
stancy ; (and, as Bengel thinks, new ardor had been infused into him by the decree 
of the Synod at Jerusalem, and the free admission of the Gentiles ;) and hence his 
kind-hearted and obliging relation Barnabas wished to take him as a companion of 
their present journey. But Paul, who had 'no respect of persons,' Gal. ii. 11, and 
thought that disposition rather than relationship should be consulted, distrusted the 
constancy of Mark, and was therefore unwilling to take him. This severity of 
Paul, however, rendered much service both to Mark and to the cause of Christian- 
ity. For Mark profited by the well-meant admonition, and was, for the future, 
more zealous and courageous ; and the gospel, being preached in different places at 
the same time, was the more widely propagated. Nor were the bands of amity be- 
tween Paul and Barnabas permanently separated by this disagreement. See 1 Cor. 
ix. 6. Nay, Paul afterwards received Mark into his friendship. See Col. iv. 10. 2 
Tim. iv. 11. Philem. 23." Kuin. (Bloomfield's Annot. Vol. IV. p. 504, 505.) 

HIS GOSPEL. 

The circumstance which makes this apostle more especially- 
eminent, and makes him an object of interest to the Christian 
reader, is, that he is the author of an important portion of the 
historical sacred canon. Respecting the gospel of Mark, the tes- 
timony of some very early and valuable accounts given by the 
Fathers, is, that he wrote under the general direction and super- 
intendence of his spiritual father, Peter ; and from this early and 
uniform tradition, he accordingly bears the name of " Peter's in- 
terpreter." The very common story is also, that it was written 
in Ro?ne } but this is not asserted on any early or trustworthy au- 
thority, and must be condemned, along with all those statements 
which pretend that the chief apostle ever was in Italy. Others 
affirm also, that it was published by him in Alexandria; but this 
story comes on too late authority to be highly esteemed. Taking 
as true, the very reasonable statement of the early Fathers, that 
when he wrote, he had the advantage of the personal assistance or 
superintendence of Peter, it is very fair to conclude, that Babylon 
was the place in which it was written, and that its date was about 
the same with that of the epistle of Peter, in which Mark is mention- 
ed as being with him. Peter was then old ; and Mark himself, 
doubtless too young to have been an intelligent hearer of Jesus, 
would feel the great importance of having a correct and well-au- 
thorized record prepared, to which the second generation of Chris- 
tians might look for the sure testimonies of those divine words, 
whose spoken accounts were then floating in the parting breath 
of the few and venerable apostles, and in the memories of their 
favored hearers. As long as the apostles lived and preached, 
there was little or no need of a written gospel. All believers in 



604 JOHN MARK. 

Christ had been led to that faith by the living words of his in- 
spired hearers and personal disciples. But when these were gone, 
other means would be wanted for the perpetuation of the authen- 
ticated truth ; and to afford these means to the greatest possible 
number, and to those most especially in want of such a record, 
from the fact that they had never seen nor heard either Jesus or 
his personal disciples, — Mark chose the Greek as the proper lan- 
guage in which to make this communication to the world. 

His gospel is so much like that of Matthew, containing hardly 
a single passage which is not given by that writer,. that it has been 
very confidently believed by many theologians who suppose 
an early date to Matthew's gospel, that Mark had that gospel 
before him when he wrote, and merely epitomized it. The ver- 
bal coincidences between the two gospels, in their present state, 
are so numerous and striking, that it has been considered impossi- 
ble to account for them on any other supposition than this. But 
these and other questions have filled volumes, and have exercised 
the skill of critics for ages ; nor can any justice be done them by 
a hasty abstract. It seems sufficient, however, to answer all que- 
ries about these verbal coincidences, without meddling with the 
question of prior date, by a reference to the fact that, during the 
whole period, intervening between the death of Christ, and the wri- 
ting of the gospels, the apostles and first preachers had been pro- 
claiming, week after week, and day after day, an oral or spoken 
gospel, in which they were constantly repeating before each other, 
and before different hearers, the narrative of the words and ac- 
tions of Jesus. These accounts by this constant routine of repeti- 
tion, would unavoidably assume a regular established form, which 
would at last be the standard account of the acts and words of 
the Savior. These, Mark, of course, adopted when he wrote, 
and the other evangelists doing the same, the coincidences men- 
tioned would naturally result ; and as different apostles, though 
speaking under the influence of inspiration, would yet make nu- 
merous slight variations in words, and in the minor circumstan- 
ces expressed or suppressed, the different writers following one 
account or the other, would make the trifling variations also no- 
ticeable. The only peculiarity that can be noticed in Mark, is, 
that he very uniformly suppresses all those splendid testimonies 
to the merits and honors of Peter, with which the others abound, 
— a circumstance at once easily traceable to the fact that Peter 
himself was the immediate director of the work, and with that no- 



JOHN MARK. 



605 



ble modesty, which always distinguished the great apostolic chief, 
would naturally avoid any allusion to matters which so highly 
exalted his own merits. Otherwise, the narrative of Mark can 
be characterized only as a plain statement of the incidents in the 
public life of Jesus, with very few of his discourses, and none of 
his words at so great length as in the other gospels ; from which 
it is evident, that an account of his acts rather than his sermons,— 
of his doings rather than his sayings, is what he designed to give. 

" Among all the quotations hitherto made from the writings of the most ancient 
Fathers, we find no mention made of Mark's having published his gospel at Alexan- 
dria. This report, however, prevailed in the fourth century, as appears from what 
is related by Eusebius, Epiphanius, and Jerome. It is first mentioned by Eusebius 
in his Ecclesiastical History, lib. ii. cap. 16. It appears from the word Qaciv, that Eu- 
sebius mentions this only as a report; and what is immediately added in the same 
place, that the persons, whose severity of life and manners is described by Philo, 
were the converts which Mark made at Alexandria, is evidently false. Epiphanius, 
in his fifty-first Heresy, ch. vi. gives some account of it. According to his statement, 
Mark wrote his gospel in Rome, while Peter was teaching the Christian religion in 
that city ; and after he had written it, he was sent by Peter into Egypt. A similar 
account is given by Jerome in his ' Treatise on Illustrious Men,' ch. viii. Lastly, 
the Coptic Christians of the present age consider Mark as the founder and first bish- 
op of their church ; and their Patriarch styles himself, ' Unworthy servant of Jesus 
Christ, called by the grace of God, and by his gracious will appointed to his service, 
and to the see of the holy evangelist Mark.' The Copts pretend likewise, that Mark 
was murdered by a band of robbers, near the lake Menzale ; but if this account be 
true, he was hardly buried at Alexandria, and his tomb in that city must be one of the 
forgeries of early superstition." (Michaelis, Vol. III. pp. 207 — 209.) 

That it is not wholly new to rank Mark among the apostles, is shown by the usages of 
the Fathers, who, in the application of terms, are authority, as far as they show the 
opinions prevalent in their times. Eusebius says, " that in the eighth year of Nero, 
Anianus, the first bishop of Alexandria after Mark, the apostle and avangelist, took 
upon him the care of that church." Hp'-arog fisra MapKov tov airogoXov Kai tvayytKiwv, tt)S 
tv A\el;av8()£iq xapoiKiag, Aviavos ttjv Xeirypyiav dtadsysTai. H. E. I. 2. cap. 24. (Lard- 

ner'sCred. Vol. III. p. 176.) 

Of the later movements of Mark, nothing is known with cer- 
tainty. Being evidently younger than most of the original apos- 
tles, it is not unreasonable to suppose that he long survived them ; 
but his field of labor is unknown. The common tradition among 
the Fathers, after the third century, is, that he went to Alexandria, 
and there founding a church, became bishop of it till his death ; — 
but the statement is mixed up with so much that is palpably false, 
that it is not entitled to any credit. 



LUKE. 



Very little direct mention is made of this valuable contributor to the sacred canow 
in any part of the New Testament ; and those notices which seem to refer to him' 
are so vague, that they have been denied to have any connection with the evangelist. 
The name which is given in the title of his gospel is, in the original form, Lucas, a 
name undoubtedly of Latin origin, but shown by its filial syllable to be a Hebrew- 
Greek corruption and abridgment of some pure Roman word; for it was customary for 
the New Testament writers to make these changes, to accord with their own forms of 
utterance. Lucas, therefore, is an abridgment of some one of two or three Roman 
words, either Lucius, Lucilius or Lucanus; and as the writers of that age were ac- 
customed to write either the full or abridged form of any such name, indifferently, it 
seems allowable to recognize the Lucius mentioned in Acts and in the Epistle to the 
Romans, as the same person with the evangelist. From the manner in which this Lu- 
cius is mentioned in the last chapter of the Epistle to the Romans, it would seem that 
he was related to Paul by blood or marriage, since the apostle mentions him along 
with Jason and Sosipater, as his "kinsman." In the beginning of the thirteenth 
chapter of Acts, Lucius is called "the Cyrenian," whence his country may be infer- 
red to have been the province of northern Africa, called Cyrene, long and early the 
seat of Grecian refinement, arc, eloquence and philosophy, and immortalized by hav- 
ing given name to one of the sects of Grecian philosophers, — the Cyrenaic school, 
founded by Aristippus. Whether he was a Jew by birth, or a heathen, is not known, 
and has been much disputed. His birth and education in that seat of Grecian litera- 
ture, may be reasonably considered as having contributed to that peculiar elegance 
of his language and style, which distinguishes him as the most correct of all the 
writers of the New Testament. 

His relationship to Paul, (if it may be believed on so slight grounds,) was proba- 
bly a reason for his accompanying him as he did through so large a portion of his 
travels and labors. He first speaks of himself as a companion of Paul, at the begin- 
ning of his first voyage to Europe, at Troas; and accompanies him to Philippi, 
where he seems to have parted from him, since, in describing the movements of the 
apostolic company, he no longer uses the pronoun "we." He probably staid in or 
near Philippi several years, for he resumes the woid, in describing Paul's voy- 
age from Philippi to Jerusalem. He was his companion as far as Caesarea, where 
he probably staid during Paul's visit to Jerusalem; remained with him perhaps du- 
ring his two years' imprisonment in Caesarea, and was certainly his companion on 
his voyage to Rome. He remained with him there till a short time before his re- 
lease ; and is mentioned no more till Paul, in his last writing, the second epistle to 
Timothy, says, " Luke alone is with me." Beyond this, not the slightest trace re- 
mains of his history. Nothing additional is known of him, except that he was a 
physician; for he is mentioned by Paul, in his Epistle to the Colossians, as "Luke, 
the beloved physician." The miserable fiction of some of the papistical romances, 
that Luke was also a painter, and took portraits of Jesus Christ, the Virgin Mary, 
&c. is almost too shamelessly impudent to be ever mentioned; yet the venerable 
Cave, the only writer who has heretofore given in full the Lives of the Apostles, re- 
fers to it, without daring to deny its truth ! 



LUKE. 607 

(That Luke was also regarded, by the Fathers as an apostle, is shown by the fact 
that, in the Synopsis ascribed to Athanasms, it is said, ' that the gospel of Lake was 
dictated by the apostle Paul, and written and published by the blessed apostle and 
physician, Luke.') 

HIS WRITINGS. 

But a far more valuable testimony of the character of Luke is found in those noble 
works which bear his name in the "inspired canon. His gospel is characterized by 
remarkable distinctness of expression and clearness of conception, which, with that 
correctness of language by which it is distinguished above all the other books of the 
New Testament, conspire to make it the most easy to be understood of all the wri- 
tings of the New Testament; and it has been the subject of less comment and criti- 
cism than any other of the sacred books. From the language which he uses in his 
preface, about those who had undertaken similar works before him, it would seem 
that th'ou°-h several unauthorized accounts of the life and discourses of Jesus were 
published before him, yet neither of the other gospels were known by him to have 
been written. He promises, by means of a thorough investigation of all facts to the 
sources, to give a more complete statement than had ever before been given to those 
for whom he wrote. Of the time when he wrote it, therefore, it seems fair to con- 
clude, that it was before the other two ; but a vast number of writers have thought 
differently, and many other explanations of his words have been offered. Of his im- 
mediate sources of information, — the place where he wrote, and the particular per- 
son to whom he addresses it, nothing is known with sufficient certainty to be worth 
recording. 

Of the Acts of the Apostles, nothing need be said in respect to the contents and ob- 
ject, so clear and distinct is this beautiful piece of biography, in all particulars. Its 
date may be fixed with exactness at the end of the second year of Paul's first im- 
prisonment, which, according to common calculations, is A. D. 63. It may well be- 
come the modern apostolic historian, in closing with the mention of this writing his 
own prolonged yet hurried work, to acknowledge the excellence, the purity, and the 
richness of the source from which he has thus drawn so large a portion of the mate- 
rials of the greatest of these Lives. Yet what can he add to the bright testimonies ac- 
cumulated through long ages, to the honor and praise of this most noble of historic 
records 1 The learned of eighteen centuries have spent the best energies of noble 
minds, and long studious lives, in comment and in illustration of its clear, honest 
truth, and its graphic beauty ; the humble, inquiring Christian reader, in every age 
too, has found, and in every age will find, in this, the only safe and faithful outline of 
the great events of the apostolic history. The most perfect and permanent impres- 
sion, which a long course of laborious investigation and composition has left on the 
author's mind, of the task which he now lays down, exhausted yet not disgusted, is, 
that beyond the apostolic history of Luke, nothing can be known with certainty of 
the great persons of whose acts he treats, except the disconnected and floating cir- 
cumstances which may be gleaned by implication from the epistles ; and so marked 
is the transition from the pure honesty of the sacred record, to the grossness of pa- 
tristic fiction, that the truth is, even to a common eye, abundantly w^ell character- 
ized by its own excellence. On the passages of such a narrative, the lights of criti- 
icism, of Biblical learning, and of contemporary history, may often be needed, to 
make the sometimes unconnected parts appear in their true historic relations. The 
writer who draws therefrom, too, the facts for a connected biography, may, in the am- 
plifications of a modern style, perhaps more to the surprise than the admiration of his 
readers, quite protract the bare simplicity of the original record, "in many a wind- 
ing bout of linked" wordiness, " long drawn out," — but the modernizing extension and 
illustration, though it may bring small matters more prominently to the notice and per- 
ception of the reader, can never supply the place of the original, — to improve which, 
comment and illustration are alike vain. When will human learning and labor per- 
fect the exposition and the illustration of the apostolic history 1 Its comments are 
written in the eternal hope of uncounted millions; — its illustrations can be fully read 
only in the destiny of ages. This record was the noble task of "the beloved physi^ 
cian;" in his own melodious language — " To give knowledge to the people, of sal- 
vation by remission of sins through the tender mercy of our God, whereby the day- 
spring from on high hath visited us, — to give light to them that sit in darkness and in 
the shadow of death, — to guide our feet in the way of peace !" 




ERRATA. 

^^foVTi^' fol " .'^'f^^K'oo 6 ^ 'Gjiechiseh.'-P. 9, I. 7, for 'verse 7,' read 'verse 2.'-P. 
10, 1 22, for '15,' read'25.'— P. 11, 1. 38, for 'Indus,' read 'Euphrates '—P. 18, I 36 for 'Pertuensis ' 
re p l ir VirtY-^ ** L 3 f' for ;^eau.s,' read'dream.'-P. 38, 1.33, for ''not?read Eg" once!' 
—P. 45, 1. 17, dele 'the number of.'— P. 65, 1. 23, for 'after,' read 'over ;' line 37 for 'was ' read 
'were.'— P. 67,1. 39, for 'avert,' read 'snatch.'— P. 78, 1. 2, for 'hare,' read 'has;' 'line 26 for 'ac- 
counts,' read 'account.'— P. 107,1.26, before 'not,' read 'he.'— P. 110,1.22, for 'an hour' read 
'three hours.'— P 140,1 28, for 'proposition,' read 'preposition.'— P. 220, 1. 44, for 'Or that'' read 
'And by.'— P. 224, 1. 20, after 'sake,' inseit 'of.'— P. 225, 1. 25, for 'of any,' read ' by any.'— P 242 
1. 28, for 'Aegian,' read 'Aegean.— P. 249, 1. 31, for 'as early as A. D. 200,' read ' before A. D. 100 ;'' 
line 35, after 'books,' read 'supposed to have been written before that translation.'— P. 262, 1. l- r >, 
for 'inherits,' read 'inherit.'— P. 288, 1. 25, for 'second,' read 'third.'— P. 312, 1 27, for 'or,' read 
'and.'— P. 508, transpose 'Lois,' in line 31, with 'Eunice,' in line 35.— P. 522, 1. 24, for 'Nereid,' 
read 'Naiad.'— P. 45, line 9, before 'baptizer,' insert 'his.' 

Page 10, line 61, in the second Hebrew word, the final letter should be not H butfl. 

The statement on page 339, respecting the exposition of the Apocalypse by Clarke, appears, oh 
a more careful investigation, to represent his views rather too decidedly as favoring the ancient 
interpretation, His own notes are such as unquestionably support that interpretation ; but he has 
so far conformed to popular prejudice, as to admit on his pages some very elaborate anti-papal ex- 
planations from an anonymous writer, (J. E. C.) which, however, he is very far from adopting as 
his own. The uniform expression made by his own clear and learned notes, must be decidedly 
favorable to the ancient interpretation, and the value of his noble work is vastly enhanced by this 
circumstance. 

The view on pages 355 and 361, of the locality of Philip's and Nalhanael's conversion is undoubt- 
edly erroneous. I overlooked the form of the expression— " The next day, Jesus would go forth 
into Galilee, and findeth Philip," &c. This shows that he was slid at Bethabara when he called 
both Philip and Nathanael. 



MATERIALS. 

In the narrative of the lives of the twelve, the author has been driven entirely to the labor of 
new research and composition, because the task of composing complete biographies of these per- 
sonages had never before been undertaken on so large a scale. Cave's Lives of the Apostles, the 
only work that has ever gone over thatgi-ound, is much more limited in object and extent than the 
task here undertaken, and afforded no aid whatever to the author of this work, in those biographies. 
Poth the text and the notes of that part of the work are entirely new ; nothing whatever, except a 
few acknowledged quotations, of those biographies, having ever appeared before on this subject. 
A list of the works which were resorted to in the prosecution of this new work, would fill many 
pages, and would ? answer no useful purpose, after the numerous references made to each source in 
connection with the passage which was thence derived. It is sufficient in justice to himself to say 
that all those references were made by the author himself; nor in one instance that can now be 
recollected, did he quote second-hand without acknowledging the intermediate source. In the 
second part of the work, the labor was in a field less completely occupied by previous labor But 
throughout that part of the work also, the whole text of the narrative is original; and all the fruits 
of others' research are, with hardly one exception, credited in the notes, both to the original, and 
to the medium through which they were derived. In this portion of the work, much labor has 
been saved, by making use of the very full illustrations given in the works of those who had pre- 
ceded the author on the life of Paul, whose biography has frequently received the attention and 
labor of the learned. 

The following have been most useful in this part of the work. "Hermanni Witsii Meletemata 
Leidensia, Par. 1. Vita Pauli Apostoli." 4to. Leidiae, 1703. — "Der Apostel Paulus. Von J. T. Hem- 
sen." 8vo. Goettingen, 1S30. — "Pearson's Annals of Paul, translated, with notes, by Jackson Muspratt 
Williams." 12mo. Cambridge, 1827. — Much valuable matter contained in the two firsi, however, 
was excluded by want of room. 



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